


Run Through the Middle

by UpsideofCrazy



Category: Stray Kids (Band)
Genre: Action/Adventure, Alternate Universe - Percy Jackson Fusion, Fluff and Angst, Found Family, Gen, Han Jisung | Han-centric, Minor Character Death, OT8, PJO-typical violence, also there are little bits of angst because i can't help myself, because I live for that kind of stuff, but this is gonna be a lot of character exploration and ~bonding~, demigod!skz, except he doesn't appear until the fifth chapter
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-03-09
Updated: 2020-09-06
Packaged: 2021-03-01 00:21:12
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 22
Words: 116,063
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/23076172
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/UpsideofCrazy/pseuds/UpsideofCrazy
Summary: Like most things, it started with Chan....A PJO!AU where Stray Kids are demigods tasked with saving the world.
Relationships: Everyone & Everyone, friendship is the best ship - Relationship
Comments: 512
Kudos: 458





	1. Chan

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Why yes, the title is taken from "Miroh" because I am absolute trash at coming up with titles myself.
> 
> So I've been a lurker in the Stray Kids tag for probably far too long, and my brain recently latched onto the idea of a SKZ PJO!AU and would not let me rest until I started this. So, here it is! Just a heads up that the first 5 chapters will focus on how each of the boys make it to Camp Half-Blood (which has a branch in Korea, because I say so). After that, the story will move forward with all of them.
> 
> [Update 09/10/2020: Hi everyone! In light of everything going down, I've gone back and made edits to this fic. May I now introduce Kang Younghyun (aka Brian), the centaur head of the Korean branch of Camp Half-Blood!]

Like most things, it started with Chan. He was still Chris at that time, and he had not yet reached a decade of life when the Ketea Inidkoi attacked. Of course, he hadn’t known that the creature cutting a swift path through the ocean waters towards him was called a Ketea Inidkoi. He just knew that it was big, and its mouth was full of sharp teeth, and it seemed to be swimming towards him, specifically. The creature had the head of a jackal and the tail of a fish and Chris was scared. He knew he could not beat the creature to shore. He was a good swimmer – “a natural talent,” as his swim coach often said – but the creature moving towards him was faster than he would ever hope to be. Still, he began a desperate breaststroke, his movements sloppy and frantic as he tried to push himself closer to shore. The creature was gaining, he _knew_ it, and yet he couldn’t go any faster. That monstrous thing was catching up to him, and its teeth were so sharp, and he was so _soft_ in comparison…

Then Chris felt a tug in the pit of his stomach, and suddenly he was flying through the water at speeds that should have been impossible for him to reach. The ocean seemed to part around him, and he found he didn’t even need to complete his forward stroke to be propelled onward: the water was moving him towards the shoreline of its own volition. Chris, already in a bit of a state due to the unprecedented appearance of the Ketea Inidkoi, was thrust into the fun new territory of dissociative shock. Numbly, he glanced behind him and saw that the creature was being held in place, frantically snapping at the water squeezing around its neck tighter, and tighter, and tighter, until suddenly the creature wasn’t there anymore. He caught a glimpse of something gold shining in the late afternoon sun, and then he was being gently laid onto the white sands and the tide was retreating and his mother was running towards him, screaming something he couldn’t make out as tears fell from her eyes and she gathered him into her arms. He knelt there silently, letting his mother run fingers through his curly hair as his brain finally gathered itself enough to realize she was whispering “I’m sorry,” over and over into the bright day.

Things changed after that, first slowly, and then all at once. His mother sat him down the evening after the Ketea Inidkoi attack and told him three things. First, the monster that attacked him had been very real, and very dangerous. Second, his father was Poseidon, god of the sea. Third, he would be leaving for Seoul, South Korea by the end of the week for a place called Camp Half-Blood, because apparently there wasn’t a branch of this camp in Australia just yet. His mother didn’t have the funds to move to Seoul with him, but she promised him he’d be safe where he was going, and that she’d try to save up money to visit, and that she was so sorry, baby, that she kept this from him but she thought he’d be safer not knowing, thought the monsters wouldn’t be able to sense him for another couple of years, thought maybe the man who had claimed himself to be Poseidon hadn’t actually been a god at all and her child could live a normal, mortal life. She was crying again by the end of it, but Chris was still in shock and so all he could do was stare blankly ahead and wait for his mind to catch up with the rote actions his body was still able to perform.

Chris woke up the next morning, saw the small suitcase his mom had placed in the corner of his room for him to take to South Korea – _South Korea_ , when he spoke rudimentary Korean at best and had never stepped foot off Australia, and his mom wouldn’t even be there with him, but he had to go because his dad was a _god_ – and proceeded to snap back to reality with the added bonus of bursting almost every pipe in the apartment. He started crying, then, as water dripped down the walls and his mom ran into his room, eyes wild and armed with a frying pan she must have been using to stir fry breakfast. She set the frying pan down at the sight of him, and this time it was his turn to brokenly sputter out “sorry,” over and over, until building maintenance showed up at their door to see if the water pipe issue had affected their apartment as well.

Three days later, Chris stood at the departures gate with his small suitcase, his black backpack, and a brand new cellphone his mom had been able to afford thanks to the insurance payouts from the water pipe incident. Before he left, she told him that it was likely that his phone wouldn’t have service once he got to Camp Half-Blood, but that she would try to call him and text him as much as possible anyways, and that she would always have time for him, no matter the issue. She told him that he’d be picked up at the airport by a young man named Kang Younghyun, also known as Kang Brian, who would be in a bright orange shirt and who used a wheelchair to get around, and so would hopefully be easy to find at the arrivals area. He hugged his mom one last time before navigating through security, into the long halls of Sydney Airport and eventually onto the plane that would take him away from everything he had ever known. He stared out the small plane window as the yellow-brown land of Australia – his home – grew further and further away. Just under eleven hours later, his plane touched down in Seoul, South Korea. He wrangled his small suitcase free from the overhead bins with the help of a kind stranger. (“Visiting family in Seoul?” Chris hadn’t known how to answer this – explaining how he was running away from monster attacks because his father was a god would probably wind up with him being taken to see a doctor, or else simply laughed off as being too imaginative for his own good – and so he answered with a quiet “yes.”) Though the airport was big, the signs pointing the way to Arrivals were clear, and written in Korean and English, so he had no trouble figuring out where to go. Just as his mother had promised, a man in a wheelchair with kind eyes and who was wearing a bright orange shirt was waiting for him at Arrivals.

“Kang Younghyun?” Chris asked, tacking on a hasty “-ssi” as an afterthought.

“Just Younghyun is fine, or Young K, if you want.” The man smiled, his eyes crinkling up, and Chris instantly felt at ease. “You must be Bang Christopher. Or, perhaps, Christopher Bang.”

The way he pronounced “Christopher” was odd to Chris’s ears, even though his English was clear and even. With a start, Chris realized it was because he had been unintentionally anticipating an Australian accent. “Um, Chris is fine. Or, uh, Chan, if that’s easier.”

“Which would you like?”

Chris thought about it for a while. He had been “Chris” most of his life, only occasionally called “Chan” if his mother was particularly distracted or worked up. Yet “Chris” hadn’t known who he was, not really. “Chris” didn’t know his father, didn’t know that monsters were real, didn’t know that the ocean could be moved if he just willed it. Maybe “Chan” would be able to learn.

“Call me Chan, please. And, um, could I call you Brian? Maybe?” Chan didn’t mention that the English name allowed him to bring a bit of home across the water with him. He didn’t think he needed to explain, as Younghyun’s – as Brian’s – eyes were curving up into crescents.

“You may call me Brian, and I will call you Chan. Now, do you have all your bags? Yes? Then let us start towards camp.” Brian began rolling away, and Chan followed close behind. The older was adept at maneuvering his wheelchair through the streets of Seoul and down via elevator into the maze of Seoul’s subway system. Chan struggling a bit to keep up, dragging his unwieldy suitcase behind him and trying not to stare for too long at literally every building and person they passed. Brian, for all that he seemed unaware of Chan’s floundering, was never more than two steps away from the boy, allowing him time to settle into the new city on his own while ready to provide support if needed. He also made small talk, pointing out particularly tasty noodle places, describing Seoul’s landmarks, and explaining Korean customs in a mixture of Korean and flat-accented English. Though it lacked the particular lilt of his home, Chan appreciated more than he could say that Brian was slipping English phrases and sentences into their conversation. It helped the journey from the airport to the forested park where Camp Half-Blood was apparently located pass by quicker than Chan had anticipated. Soon, Chan was clutching his suitcase and standing behind Brian on a gravel path a few steps from a large gate with a bold “Camp Half-Blood” branded into its peak.

As soon as they passed underneath that gateway, Brian turned to Chan. “I’m going to do something, because sometimes showing is easier than speaking, and I need you to remain calm. Alright?” Brian’s voice seemed even more soothing than normal, and Chan nodded.

Brian then pushed out and away from his chair and before Chan could move forward to keep him from stumbling, he was rising, rising, until he was stood at nearly twice Chan’s height. He didn’t have legs anymore. Or, well, he did have legs, but there were four of them, and they were certainly not human legs.

“As you can see, I am actually–”

“A centaur.” Chan whispered, half-forgotten myths his mother used to tell him at bedtime floating to the forefront of his brain.

Brian smiled that same calming smile. “A centaur, yes. Not all non-human creatures are bad, though I certainly would not consider myself a ‘creature’ in such base terms.” Some of the Korean terms passed over Chan’s head, literally and figuratively, but he understood enough to let out a small giggle. Brian’s smile, if possible, seemed to grow, and he quickly repeated his sentences in English. Chan’s giggling grew stronger, and Brian’s smile grew wider. “Now, let me get you settled into your cabin before I take you to the Big House for the formal welcoming. I am technically supposed to take you directly to the house but, well, I want to give you a moment to set your things down. We’re in the off season anyways, so it is not like there are many people around to give us grief about the delay. I want to give you time to breathe. I imagine your life has probably been pretty rushed, recently.”

Chan had known Brian for the better part of two hours, and he was already so grateful to the man (centaur?). Nothing had been explained to him, not really, but Brian’s very presence was calming, and so Chan easily followed him down a slight hill to a sprawling mass of cabins. There were three cabins in prominent positions at the end of a long grassy stretch. Two were white marble, regal. The third was pale blue stone and seemed to shimmer with the reflection of nonexistent water. Brian led Chan to this third cabin.

“This one is yours, son of Poseidon.” It was the first time Brian had sounded so formal, and Chan hesitated in the doorway for a moment before crossing inside. The cabin appeared untouched. Brian had mentioned it was the off season, but Chan couldn’t find any signs that someone had inhabited this cabin prior to him. He hesitantly placed his bags on the bed closest to the door, and looked to Brian for confirmation.

The centaur smiled yet again. “I’ll give you a moment to settle in. Just wander outside when you are ready.” He clopped down from the small porch, and Chan was left alone.

There was a small yet ornately carved fountain built into the wall at the far end of the cabin. Chan moved towards it, sticking a finger in and tasting it to confirm that the water was, indeed, saltwater. He supposed that if Poseidon was the god of the sea, it made sense for this to be saltwater. Still, he’d have to make sure he didn’t accidentally try to drink from the fountain when he woke up thirsty and sleep-disoriented in the middle of the night. Apart from the fountain, there were three other beds in the cabin, each appearing spotless. Beside each bed was a small nightstand, and a chest of drawers stood beside that. Chan figured he could probably take up as much room as he wanted, here. Chan figured he’d probably stick to just his bed, nightstand, and drawers, anyways.

Sitting on his bed, he took a moment to breathe, as Brian had suggested. The taste of saltwater lingered in the back of his mouth, and all of a sudden he was fighting back tears as thoughts of his home in Australia and his mother were yanked violently to the forefront of his mind. He whipped out his cell phone, intent on calling her, but was met with a lack of service. Right, she had mentioned that. He’d have to ask Brian if there was any way to call her, later. Right now, he didn’t think he would be able to make that request without crying, and that was definitely not the first impression he had been trying so hard so far to make, especially considering he was the son of Poseidon. Supposedly.

He left the cabin – his cabin – a moment later. True to his word, Brian was just outside, surveying the quiet camp with steady eyes. He caught Chan’s stare and offered him a smile, gesturing up towards the large manor perched on top of what seemed to be a cliffside.

“Shall we?” Brian asked, and Chan nodded. They set off, Brian’s pace deliberately slow so that Chan’s shorter (and less numerous) legs could keep up. “That,” Brian explained as they walked, “is the Big House. Right now, we’re operating with a reduced staff, as it is the off season. Actually, I’m the only staff member currently working. The only official one, that is – Sungjin and Jae and Wonpil and Dowoon typically help me manage the campers, but since it’s the off season, they have been sent out to try to find and keep safe other demigods.”

“Demigods?” Chan parroted. The word wasn’t new to him in Korean, surprisingly, and he figured at some point his mother must have taught him this. Probably in preparation for this moment, he realized, and then had to fight the urge to cry yet again.

“Demigods. What you are, and what most of the campers here are as well. You are a bit of a, hm, special situation, but we can talk about that later. For now, the basics.”

Brian laid it all out. How the Greek gods of myth were a bit more real than Chan had previously thought, and how all those Greek monsters were a bit more real, too. How the gods depended on mortals to keep the world running, and hence sometimes demigods – “Like you,” Brian emphasized – were born. How demigods inherited traits from their divine parents and how their very existence was a lure to monsters. How mortals – “Those without godly heritage – that is, godly parents” – were kept from seeing the true nature of mythologic affairs via something called The Mist, which warped godly matters to appear mundane to mortals. How demigods were often given quests to maintain balance in a world of gods, humans, and other.

“We should probably make sure you don’t have a quest waiting out there for you,” Brian added as an afterthought. “You’re so young, I can’t see how there would be one just yet. But, protocol is protocol.”

Brian directed Chan to the second floor of the house and pointed out a ladder leading up into the attic. “This is something you have to do yourself, I’m afraid. But I will be down here, waiting, the whole time. I promise.”

With one nervous look back at Brian, Chan climbed the ladder and pushed up on the trapdoor. The attic was largely what he had expected: boxes and crates strewn about, with a couple ornately carved containers that looked suspiciously like treasure chests. The only thing out of place was a huge taxidermy swan placed on a purple-cushioned pillow. As Chan stared, a green mist began to emanate from the swan, swirling up around its outstretched wings and spilling over onto the floor. Chan thought he should probably be frightened, but he trusted that Brian wouldn’t have led him to something dangerous, and what’s more he trusted that his mom wouldn’t have sent him somewhere harmful, either. So Chan stood his ground, though he was trembling as the mist slid over the toes of his shoes.

 _Son of Poseidon._ A voice echoed through the small space, seeming to come from the swan, though the bird remained stiff and still. _Approach._

Chan inched forward, gingerly sliding his feet through the swirling green mist. When he was apparently close enough, the voice echoed out again, speaking in a lilting, almost lyrical manner:

_A creeping mist will follow eight_

_Who must advance past final gate_

_To save a world where clashing sun_

_Will bring down sky lest borne by one_

_Then heavenly voices save or scold_

_And ensure peace through loss of gold_

“What… mist? Not this mist, right?” There was no answer from the swan. The green mist was quickly collecting itself and melting back into the body of the swan. After a moment, the attic was left as it was when Chan had first entered, and he climbed back down the ladder with shaky limbs.

Brian’s face fell as soon as he saw Chan. “You received a prophecy.”

“Pro-phe-cy?” Chan sounded it out.

“A _prophecy._ ” Brian repeated in English, his eyes still kind, yet sad.

“ _Prophecy…_ ” Chan repeated, his tone half-questioning, half-anxious.

“Prophecies are tricky,” Brian elaborated, “and can often mean many things. Do you remember the exact wording of yours?”

Chan relayed the rhyme for Brian, his Korean snagging on some of the words, but Brian helped him piece it together. When Chan had relayed it in full, the centaur sighed. “I was hoping you would have some time to adjust before anything happened. Although, it does sound like you are one part of an eight-person group, so hopefully you have a while yet before your quest begins. I should have expected you would have some grand quest lined up for you, though; you are a child of the Big Three.”

“Big Three?” Chan repeated.

“How much do you know about Greek mythology?”

“The basics, I guess.”

“Then you know that there are three gods considered the most powerful among all the Olympians: the brothers Zeus, Poseidon, and Hades. These gods are referred to as the Big Three. As a son of Poseidon, you have incredible power. This also places a rather large target on your back. Usually, demigods are not found by monsters at such a young age. You have yet to turn 10, correct?”

“My birthday is in a couple weeks.” Chan felt like he was being scolded for something he hadn’t even done. Brian must have sensed his unease, because the centaur ran a hand down his face before nodding once to himself.

“I’m sorry for being tense earlier. None of this is your fault, I just… I was really hoping you would not yet receive a prophecy/ However, with luck yours will not begin for a long, long time. For now, we will focus on getting you settled into camp. We’ll start with the dining area; it’s nearly dinner time, and you must be starved after your flight. Now, Camp Half-Blood is surrounded by a magical field that regulates – that is, _regulates_ – the weather, so it is always sunny. This means the dining area can be outside, and in fact we burn offerings – _offerings_ – at each meal, so that…”

Chan trailed behind Brian, listening intently as the other led him to the dining area. Australia had been Chris’s home. He was determined to make Camp Half-Blood Chan’s.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you for reading, and hope you're enjoying (or at least intrigued) so far!
> 
> Unlike the vast majority of things that I write, this work does have a rough plot outline, which means there will for sure be an ending. Who knows how long it'll take to get there, though. My goal is to update on a weekly basis (probably Sunday evenings EST), but life can get crazy and I might miss a week or two occasionally, so sorry in advance for that!


	2. Felix & Minho

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> What's this? Another update, and so soon? I wanted to introduce a few more of the boys before leaving y'all for a week, so come get y'all juice <3 <3 <3

The others gathered like this:

…

Felix was under the care of his father for approximately two months before the man decided he would much rather have a career than a child. Felix was gracelessly left on the steps of the nearest church in Sydney with nothing in his position save for his name, scribbled hastily on a slip of paper, and a soft purple blanket. He was found later that night by a priest who had come to pray his usual evening devotional. The priest was surprised and saddened to find the baby on the steps of his church, but offered up a prayer of thanks to his god that he had been led to this young soul. After many years, Felix would realize the irony of his being found on the steps of a church; for now, he simply gurgled quietly in the arms of the white-collared man.

The priest did not have the means to care for a child, and so Felix was shortly brought to a foster care agency on the outskirts of Sydney. From there, he was moved to a small group house. This was his home for 9 years. Yes, families did come, and all were enamored of the sparse freckles dotting his little cheeks and the curious look in his large eyes. But there was always something that stopped them from signing the papers and bringing the sweet-faced boy into their homes. The more superstitious of the families thought to themselves that, despite his bright disposition, there was a touch of something darker that clung to his edges.

Felix, for his part, was overall a happy child. He had never known anything other than the yellow walls of the group home, and though he soon learned that this was not the norm once he started school, he remained content in his life. His many drawings soon came to litter the yellow walls. He persuaded many sweets out of the head of house after meals. And, as soon as he was able, he began to help out in the small backyard vegetable garden. The head of house proclaimed that he must have been gifted with a green thumb, as the crops grew sweeter, larger, and even brighter after Felix began caring for them. Small wildflowers dotted the backyard, and Felix could often be found weaving floral crowns with the other children in the spring and summer.

Once fall started, however, Felix would begin to dim. The change in mood would come on slowly, and he would retreat into himself. His normally bright personality would mellow as the days grew shorter. Throughout the cold months of winter, Felix would hardly crack a smile. He would tend to the herbs growing on the windowsill silently, watching snowflakes with something almost akin to anger in his eyes. As soon as the frost began to recede and the songbirds returned, Felix’s mood would improve. The head of house speculated he had some variant of Seasonal Affective Disorder, though she was hesitant to give him an official diagnosis given his young age. Instead, she affectionally referred to him as her Springtime Child, and continued to purchase new kinds of seeds for him to work into the soft dirt outside.

A week after Felix’s 9th birthday, he was adopted. The tall, beautiful woman who was to become his mother entered the group house with a swirl of floral scent. She swept her eyes around the facility as she stood talking to the head of house in the foyer, and when she caught sight of Felix laughing among the wildflowers outside, her eyes filled with tears.

“What,” she asked the head of the house, surreptitiously wiping at her face, “is his name?”

“Ah, our Springtime Child.” The head of house smiled, and the woman’s head whipped back to her. “His name is Felix. Would you like to meet him?”

“Very much.” Felix was called inside, and stood shyly, half-hidden behind the head of house as he softly greeted the tall, beautiful woman. She bent to his level. “Hello, Felix. You can call me Kori for now. How would you like to come home with me?”

The woman’s smile was warm and she smelled like flowers and Felix _knew_ that she would do everything in her power to keep him safe. He answered softly, “I would like that, I think.”

The woman gave him another smile, and the smell of flowers seemed to intensify for a moment. She rose to stand before the head of house, signing her name on the adoption papers with a flourish. A small question snagged at the back of Felix’s brain. Wasn’t this happening too quickly? He had seen other kids get adopted, and there was always a trial period, and a thorough questioning of the potential parents, and just generally a lot more steps to complete. But the woman gave him another warm smile and offered him her hand, and her hand was just as warm as Felix imagined his mother’s hand must have been, and so he left the group house with his small purple backpack (inside of which was a worn purple blanket) without more than a singular look back to wave at the dazed head of house.

The tall, beautiful woman took him to a small park a little ways from the group house and sat beside him on a wooden park bench. It was still early in the morning, and the little park was empty. The woman nodded once to herself, and then she was standing before Felix, and she was growing taller and more resplendent and her skin was glowing a soft gold. Her smile remained warm. Around them, the park burst into bloom. Wildflowers sprung from the soft grass, and Felix gasped, delighted. He held out his hand, and a flower grew up to rest in his palm. He let out a small giggle. The woman’s smile grew larger, and the flowers around them grew brighter and more numerous.

“My true name is Persephone, goddess of spring,” the woman spoke, “and I am your mother. Your _true_ mother. Felix, I am so sorry that it has taken me so many years to find you.”

She came to sit by Felix once more. She was still glowing faintly, though she was not quite as tall, so as to fit more comfortably on the wooden bench. She explained to him more of who she was, of what Olympus was, and the Underworld, and the monsters that would have come for him eventually. She explained how she had cursed his father to work the rest of his days in a florist’s shop rather than in the lofty CEO position he had abandoned Felix to chase after. She explained, with remorse in her voice, how she had initially borne Felix as a snub to her husband, Hades, after he had borne a child with another woman. How it had been her own mother, Demeter, who had come to her shortly after Felix’s birth and scolded her for her actions, encouraging her to form a connection with her only son. How, following that, she had spent every free moment in the springs and summers scouring all of Australia, looking for him. How she had finally found him.

“I swear on the river Styx, I will keep you safe.” Though there was no way Felix could understand the magnitude of the promise at that moment, he somehow knew that it was a promise she must uphold.

“Alright, mother.” Persephone’s smile was near blinding at those two words. She hesitantly ran a hand through his soft, dark hair, and Felix turned to her with a smile so like her own.

“My Springtime Child. My sweet son.” She pulled him fully into her arms, and Felix felt so warm and so secure and the flowers bloomed brighter that morning.

A few days later, she brought Felix to Camp Half-Blood in Seoul, South Korea. Though his father had been Korean, Felix knew nothing of this aspect of his heritage, and he spoke barely a word of the language. He was greeted at the camp gates by a man with the lower body of a horse (“A centaur,” his mother whispered softly to him) who greeted him in perfect English, much to Felix’s relief. Still, that relief was short-lived, and Felix could feel eyes on him as he walked hand-in-hand through the camp with his mother.

“It’s not often a goddess comes to my camp,” the centaur – who had introduced himself in funnily-accented English as Brian – explained the eyes trailing their small party. Felix shrunk slightly into his mother’s side. Persephone was unabashed, and she walked tall and proud through the camp, hand-in-hand with Felix.

Felix was led to a great house on the side of a cliff – appropriated named the Big House – where Brian introduced him to an older boy with wildly curling hair.

“Hello!” The other boy said, in English, and Felix nearly cried at the familiar accent. “My name’s Chan, and they told me you were from Australia, and I’m from Australia, too!”

“’M Felix.” He mumbled, giving the other boy a tentative smile. Chan’s smile grew, his dimples furrowing deeper.

Persephone lightly cleared her throat, and Chan turned to her, embarrassed and a little cowed. “Ah, I’m so sorry goddess, it is an honor to meet you. I promise I’ll look out for your son.”

Persephone smiled. “I’ll hold you to that.” She turned to Felix. “My Springtime Child, I will have to leave you so that you may become acquainted with this camp in peace. My presence is… disturbing to those here. I promise you I will visit as often as I am able.” With one last soft kiss to his forehead, Persephone vanished in a swirl of petals, and Felix was left on his own once more.

Chan was quick to grab the hand that Persephone had been holding, giving it a light squeeze as Felix turned to him gratefully. “I was around your age when I was first brought here, too, and it’s all a bit overwhelming at first. But I meant it when I said I’d look out for you. Brian’s cool and all I guess,” a disgruntled _hey_ sounded from the centaur standing in the doorway to the Big House as Felix let out a small chuckle, “but us Aussies have to stick together! Besides, I have a feeling you and I are going to do some great things together.” The look Chan was giving him was contemplative, and Felix found himself wanting to live up to whatever great figure Chan believed he could become. Felix would make the most of his new home, blooming as brilliantly in this new environment as the wildflowers scattered throughout the lawn outside.

…

Minho was brought to Camp Half-Blood around 11 and a half, which was earlier than most, but Minho was nothing if not an outlier. Prior to his arrival, he was stalked for a good seventeen minutes through the streets of Seoul by a large snake-like creature with a head at each of its ends. None of the people around him seemed to notice the creature when it first appeared, but as soon as it caught sight of him and began slithering its way towards him, the people began to scream and scatter. Minho, for his part, began to run. He wasn’t entirely certain where he was headed – his mother was likely still at her psychiatry appointment, and he didn’t want to bring this thing anywhere near her, regardless – but he knew that he had to get away. _One bite would be deadly_ , some part of his brain was whispering. So, he disappeared into the many small alleyways of Seoul, hoping to lose the thing in the maze of corners and tight turns. The creature seemed to have caught his scent, or something along those lines, because it was relentless in its pursuit. Minho was a fledgling dancer, and so had decent stamina, but even he was beginning to wear out after seventeen minutes of near-constant sprinting.

The next corner he turned had him running solidly into a man wearing a particularly gaudy purple bomber jacket with a small panther emblazoned over the left breast. The man had reflective aviator shades on, which he lowered to get a better look at Minho.

“Huh, you turned out pretty good-looking, kid.” Minho just stared at this elaborately dressed man, who had placed a hand on his shoulder. Though his words were a blatant red flag, Minho’s inherit stranger-danger sensor was silent. The man continued to speak. “Still don’t have a handle on any of the madness stuff, I guess, if you’re being chased by a– What _are_ you being chased by, kid? You must be running from someth–”

At that moment, the dual-headed snake creature scrambled around the corner, mouth open and poised to bite Minho. The elaborately dressed man caught the thing deftly, holding it at both ends to prevent its mouths from snapping out at Minho.

“Ah, an amphisbaena. Tricky bastards, but you did good in running for so long. Let me just take care of this one for you…” Suddenly, the snake in the man’s hands was gone. Instead, he was clutching a bunch of grapes. He plucked one off the stem and popped it into his mouth, offering the bunch to Minho. Minho silently shook his head no. The man shrugged. “Suit yourself. Ah, I guess I should probably introduce myself, huh? My name’s Dionysus; god of vine, wine, merriment, and madness. And, uh, your dad. Nice to meet you, kid.”

Minho blinked at him once, twice. “You’re shitting me.”

“Jeez, kid’s got a mouth!” The man chuckled, seeming almost proud, and ate another handful of grapes. “But nope, I am Dionysus and you are my kid, 100% gods-honest truth. Tell me if I’m lying, huh?”

He wasn’t lying, Minho knew. But the truth was also just so outlandish.

“Look, kid – wait, what’s your name? Something with an ‘M,’ wasn’t it? Mingi? No, Minhee? No, uh…”

“Minho.”

“Minho! That’s it. Look, Minho, I know you know I’m not lying, and I know this is a lot to take in, but the truth of the matter is, more of those amphisbaena will come after you. Nastier things, too, and you need to learn to protect yourself. I’ve been at this game for a long time – I’m a god, practically immortal and all that jazz – but you’re a baby when it comes to all of this stuff. You need a more specialized form of education. Demigods 101. You know?”

Minho did not know. But he said “sure” regardless because, well, this strange man – Dionysus – had just saved his life, most likely. Plus, everything Dionysus had said was 100% true. Minho could discern when someone was lying – had been able to from a very young age – and so could tell that the man before him was being honest. Actually, now that he thought about it, the fact that he was apparently the kid of a god probably had a lot to do with his weird truth-sensing abilities…

“Great! Man, you’re a lot more laid back than my last kid. Juan was fucking nuts. Goes with the territory I guess, but still…” Dionysus turned around, and Minho realized that the small panther that had been on the front of his jacket was emblazoned on the back as well, large and prowling down the length of the purple fabric.

“I like your jacket.”

If Dionysus thought his comment was abrupt, he kept that to himself. “Thanks, kid. I’ll get you one like it later, if I remember. Now, c’mon, I have to get you to Camp Half-Blood. It’s not too far, just outside the city.” He gestured for Minho to follow, mumbling under his breath as he started walking away, “Thank the gods I don’t have to run shit like that anymore…”

Though he still wasn’t entirely certain what was going on, Minho implicitly trusted this man – his supposed father – and so followed along behind the sharp-eyed panther.

For the second time in less than a year, a demigod was personally escorted through the gates of Camp Half-Blood by their godly parent. Minho took the stares and whispers surrounding him in stride. Dionysus seemed unruffled by just about everything, and the reflective sunglasses perched on top of his nose added to the effect.

Minho was led to the aptly named Big House, where a centaur named Brian graciously welcomed him to the camp. “Sorry I couldn’t meet you at the gates; we had a bit of a canoe emergency that I had to get sorted. However, Mr. D is very familiar with how these kinds of camps work, so I knew you would have no problem getting here.”

Dionysus scowled at the name. “C’mon, Brian. You know I left that nickname behind me years ago. Makes it sound like you’re calling me a dick or something.”

Brian gave him a self-satisfied smile, and Minho found himself instantly liking the centaur. “Sure, sure. Anyways, I can get Minho settled in. You are, of course, welcome to return whenever you like.”

“Great. Well, I gotta go make sure none of my other kids are getting into trouble, maybe get a bottle or wine or two for successfully saving this one, you know how it goes.” He clamped a hand down on Minho’s shoulder once more. Despite his gruff words, his hand was gentle. “Keep your head on, alright kid? I’ll try to swing by every so often, but, uh, no promises. Oh, I can let your mom know what’s up, so she’ll probably arrange for a visit at some point too. There’s no cell service here so just a heads-up on that one. Alright then, see ya later kid, Brian. Or, should I say Young K.” With a two-finger salute and a cheeky grin, Dionysus vanished in a puff of wine-soaked air before another word could be said.

Brian sighed at his abrupt exit, grumbling something about a ‘cooler nickname than yours’ before turning to Minho. “How much did he tell you? Next to nothing, I assume.”

Minho shrugged. “He said that he was Dionysus, and my dad, and mentioned something about madness before turning the snake monster that had been chasing me into grapes.”

Brian sighed again. “Alright, so less than next to nothing. That’s fine; expected, even. I can work with this. We can start by–”

“Hey, Brian! I got the canoes sorted, and most of the water back into the lake, but I think…” A boy a little older than Minho crossed into the front hall, his voice trailing off as he caught sight of Minho. His eyes widened for a second, before he gave Minho a contemplative look.

“Oh, Chan, perfect timing.” Brian smiled at the other boy. “This is Minho. He is a son of Dionysus, who of course explained nothing to him, and so I will need to provide him with a full overview. Would you be able to help? Maybe you could give him the camper’s perspective, seeing as how you are one of our more experienced residents.”

“Absolutely!” Chan smiled, and his dimples put Minho at ease. He held out his hand, and Minho shook it. “My name’s Bang Chan, and I’m a son of Poseidon. Welcome to Camp Half-Blood!”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hope you enjoyed! I'll do my best to get the next chapter out by the end of next Sunday. In the meantime, have fun guessing who of the remaining boys has which godly parent!


	3. Hyunjin & Changbin

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Here come lil' backstories for Hyunjin and Changbin! Just a small heads-up that Hyunjin's father is a pretty awful father: some slight emotional abuse, some slight neglect; nothing major, but wanted to give you all a warning nonetheless.

Hyunjin was used to people trying to wheedle their way onto his good side. He had always been an attractive child, and people tended to cluster around him for a chance in the spotlight that seemed perpetually trained on his looks. This had led to many fair-weather friends, doting teachers who didn’t actually teach him much of use, and well-meaning strangers who would coo over the little outfits his father dressed him in whenever they visited the mall, or the park, or the museum, or wherever else his father was posing for his latest photo shoot or ad deal. His father never brought Hyunjin anywhere outside of work, and as he was too distrustful to leave his son in the care of another, Hyunjin ended up dragged to various shooting locations all over Seoul. His father would dress him up nice, parade him around for a minute or so, and then sit him in the corner with a tablet and earbuds where he had to stay, quietly, for as long as his father’s work took. Though Hyunjin has asked his father time and time again if he could just be left at home with the maid, _please, just this once_ , his father was unaffected by his charm. Which was ironic, really, because his father might have been the one person Hyunjin actually wanted to pay attention to him. Then, puberty came on with a little more oomph than would be expected. That is to say, before Hyunjin’s voice started to change, it started to _change_. 

It began simple enough, but quickly spiraled from there. His history teacher, Mrs. Hak, had just assigned a relatively major research paper on the Joseon Dynasty, to be completed over the weekend. Hyunjin knew he wouldn’t have the time to complete the assignment with his father’s packed work schedule dragging him all over Seoul throughout the entirety of the weekend. This was somewhat of a common occurrence, and Hyunjin was usually able to wheedle himself some extra time given that his default state tended to be Teacher’s Pet. Mrs. Hak was different.

The first time he asked for an extension, the Wednesday the assignment was given, she flat-out refused him. “There will be no preferential treatment in this class,” she had said, or something along those lines, Hyunjin really wasn’t sure. He was too busy being shocked at her refusal to pay close attention to her reasoning. Sure, Hyunjin understood that, in theory, the fact that he always got extensions on his work might be unfair to the rest of his class, but he also made sure to only ask for extensions when it really was unavoidable. Hyunjin didn’t necessarily _like_ being the Teacher’s Pet; he didn’t necessarily _like_ being the center of attention in every space he entered, didn’t necessarily _like_ that the first and only thing people noticed about him was his face. But he couldn’t very well change any of that, so he figured he might as well use it for a paper extension every now and then.

Except, Mrs. Hak denied his request, and she denied it again when he asked on Thursday, her voice stricter and her eyes sharper. Hyunjin didn’t know what to do. He’d been doing his best to work on bits and pieces of the assignment since it was given on Wednesday, but at the rate he was going, he physically would not have the time to finish unless he sacrificed nearly all sleep over the weekend, which would leave him a wreck for his upcoming Monday math exam, which he needed to do well on. He was already teetering at the edge of an A minus in math, and he could not allow his grade to slip any further. He was a Hwang, after all, and a Hwang must be perfect.

Thursday night, he tried asking his father once more if he could stay at home over the weekend – he was almost twelve, surely that was old enough to be left alone for a night or two? – but his father again flat-out refused to leave him to his own devices. And so Hyunjin entered his history class on Friday with a plan to launch one last Hail Mary of a plea at Mrs. Hak.

As soon as the class ended, he nervously trotted up to his teacher’s desk. She stared him down over rectangular bifocals. He knew she would say no, again, and that there might even be some kind of repercussion for his continued requests. But he had to try.

“Mrs. Hak,” he started, and she cut him off with a singular raised finger.

“Really, Hyunjin, do you think that just because your father’s face pops up in every other commercial that you are entitled to–”

“Mrs. Hak, _please_.” Hyunjin had never begged for anything in his life, not even from his father (who likely would’ve grounded him for such a “degrading” action), but he begged now. It was accompanied by a churning sensation deep in the pit of his stomach. For a moment, Mrs. Hak stared at him with a vacant expression. Her eyes cleared, and then she smiled benevolently at him.

“Hyunjin, sweetie, of course you can have an extension on your paper! I’m so sorry I didn’t realize how dire your situation was earlier. Is one week enough? Or do you need two?”

Hyunjin was stunned and a little scared that his final plea had actually worked, but he needed this extension, and so he wasn’t going to look this gift horse in its mouth. “One, uh, one week is fine, ma’am. Thank you so, so much.”

“Of course, sweetie. Anything else you need, you just ask me, okay?”

“Oh, ah, okay. Good-bye, Mrs. Hak,” Hyunjin stuttered, quickly giving her a little half-bow, half-nod as he fled the classroom. Her sudden change in attitude was terrifying. The kind little smile she had given him was terrifying. The creeping feeling that he had somehow forced her to change her mind about the extension was _terrifying_.

A moment or so after he left the classroom, Hyunjin was nearly knocked over by a headache strong enough to bring tears to his eyes. Digging his nails into his palms and lowering his head so no one could see that he was crying (because “a Hwang does not cry, Hyunjin”), he quickly made his way to the nurse and spent the rest of the school day lying on one of the hard, white cots. When he had tried to call his father in order to get picked up, the man had been unavailable. So Hyunjin, as he often did, waited for him to finish his work.

In a textbook example of Hyunjin not knowing when to keep his mouth shut, he told his father what happened on the drive back home. When he reached the part where Mrs. Hak granted him an extension, his father quickly pulled to the side of the road and slammed the car to a stop. They were in a residential neighborhood, thankfully, but Hyunjin still let out a muffled shriek at the sudden loss of momentum.

“Have you ever done this to me?” His father’s knuckles were white on the steering wheel.

“I– what?”

“Have you ever controlled me?” His father’s voice was not loud, but his eyes were dark and sharp. He was not looking at Hyunjin.

Hyunjin had felt many things for his father over the years. Longing was prime among them, as was anger, apathy, and, on rare occasions, love. He had never feared his father prior to this moment.

“I don’t think so! No! I mean, no, never!” Hyunjin was nearly shouting, a distinctly different mood from the bubbly pop song spilling softly out of the car speakers.

“But you could. You could, and I probably would not even know.”

“I would never. Father, I would–”

His father turned to him now. “God, I should have just left you when I had the chance.” He cast his eyes back towards the road. “Should have known _her_ kid would turn out like this. You know what? You are not my problem anymore. Not my problem anymore.” They were driving again, but they weren’t headed for home.

Hyunjin’s hands were gripping his seat belt tight enough to leave marks. He couldn’t feel the thick fabric digging into his palms. He couldn’t feel anything. He was staring at his father, eyes flicking every now and then to the unfamiliar streets they were driving down. He didn’t know where he was going. He didn’t know what his father was planning. And his head still really, really hurt.

Twenty minutes later, his father pulled up at the bottom of a worn-out dirt road which led somewhere Hyunjin couldn’t see. “Get out.”

“What?”

“Get out of my car. You can stay here or wander off somewhere else, I don’t fucking care. You’re _her_ problem now.”

His father never abbreviated his words. His father never cursed. His father never looked at him like _that_ , either, and so Hyunjin quickly unbuckled his seat belt and slipped out of the car with his school bag. His father didn’t even look back once he closed the door. Hyunjin watched his father drive away with an odd sense of detachment. Then, because he had no idea of what else to do, he started walking along the dirt road.

A couple minutes later, he ended up at what seemed to be the entrance to a summer camp; “Camp Half-Blood,” if the giant lettering above the gateway was anything to go by. Surprisingly, the gate was open, and Hyunjin decided that if he had come this far, he might as well continue. It didn’t fucking matter, did it? Hyunjin wasn’t supposed to curse, but, well, a lot of things had happened today that were never supposed to happen.

Another couple of minutes, and he had wandered through a bunch of rather eclectic cabins and wound up at a large house on the edge of a cliff. He had meet no one. Shrugging to himself, he opened the door to the house. It wasn’t even locked. He was met with the startled face of a man coming down the stairs. Except, he was really only half a man. He was also half a horse, and all Hyunjin could do upon realizing this fact was stare.

The half-horse man, for his part, recovered quickly. “Ah, um, hello. My name is Kang Younghyun, but you can call me Younghyun. Or Young K.” When Hyunjin’s eyes remined wide, he continued, “Or, um, Brian. If you want. Welcome to Camp Half-Blood! I’m guessing that since you made it here, you also can see that I am a centaur. My thanks for not panicking. May I ask who you are, and who your parent is?”

Hyunjin stared at him for a few moments, his brain slowly piecing together the information presented and the request made. “My name is Hwang Hyunjin, and I no longer have a father.”

Something flickered across Brian’s face briefly before it smoothed back into an open, encouraging expression. “I meant, your godly parent.”

“My… godly parent?” As soon as the words left Hyunjin’s mouth, a soft breeze swirled through the entrance to the house, and Hyunjin felt himself grow warm. A few moments later, fabric brushed gently around his calves and a new weight encircled his head. Hyunjin looked down and found that he was wearing some sort of toga-like garment complete with delicate leather sandals. He traced the outline of a crown of metal leaves resting atop his head. He slowly turned his gaze back to Brian.

Brian’s face remained largely impassive, though a singular eyebrow had climbed up his forehead. “A child of Aphrodite, then.” Hyunjin just stared at him, finger still lightly rubbing the edge of one metal leaf. “I am guessing you do not know what any of this means.”

Hyunjin continued to stare.

Brian ran a hand down his face, before sighing and finally descending the last few steps. “Alright then, Hwang Hyunjin. There are quite a few things I need to explain. And then I think ll need to introduce you to Chan.”

…

Changbin learned about Camp Half-Blood much later than would have been expected for someone of his heritage. This was due in large part to his mother, who kept him constantly bathed in the human stink of Seoul, and thus kept him hidden from that other realm for years. Changbin spent thirteen years blissfully unaware of gods, goddesses, and the multitude of monsters that would like nothing more than to see him returned to his father. Yet his blood was a siren song to the menagerie of creatures lurking in the dark corners of the world. Eventually, something had to give.

A few days past his thirteenth birthday, Changbin came home looking rather harried and spouting half-formed sentences about some sort of vicious bird. “It was some kind of, of hell chicken, Mom! Like, glowing red eyes and all, and when it looked at me, I felt really, really bad. Like, the-worst-flu-I’d-ever-had bad. I think maybe whatever they served at lunch might’ve been past its due date.”

His mother knew that her son had likely faced down a basilisk, perhaps young or weakened, and that the divine blood in his veins had likely been the sole reason he was still alive. His mother also knew that it was that blood that had drawn the monster to him in the first place. Even though he had survived this creature, more would come. But his mother also knew that she would rather die than relinquish her only son to that damnable camp which would likely send him off on some suicide quest disguised as a hero’s journey. So, Changbin’s mother brushed his hair back from his face, turned back to the tteokbokki simmering on the stove, and whispered “not yet.” A day later, she brought him to bingo night at the retirement home she worked at. He was an instant hit with all the grandmothers deprived of their grandsons. Changbin, for his part, adored the sweet old ladies and the stories they told of what life was like when they were his age. He started attending bingo on a weekly basis, and there were no more hell chickens or anything of the sort. At least, not for a while.

The second creature to come after Changbin was a chimera. It was twenty-three days after the hell chicken incident (not that Changbin had marked the day down in his journal or anything) and he was on his way home from school. He’d gotten permission to mess around with the recording equipment in the music room after classes had ended, and so by the time he left, it was growing dark and the shadows were long. Changbin didn’t mind the dark. In fact, he found it comforting; there was something inexplicably peaceful about a night sky or a dark room. Besides, the night held no mysteries for him. He could see as well in the dark as he could in the day. He mother had told him he had “special eyes,” and used to place a kiss over each one when he was younger.

He had texted his mother when he decided to stay late at the school, and he texted her again as he began his walk home. She had been particularly paranoid about his location ever since the hell chicken incident – which he had convinced himself was the result of some kimbap gone bad – but he didn’t mind checking in a little more frequently. She probably just wanted to make sure he didn’t pass out of stomach-related illness somewhere in the depths of Seoul, where no one could find him. It made perfect sense.

Changbin was about halfway home when he became aware of someone following him. There weren’t any new noises or sights to indicate this, and yet he knew that there was someone turning when he was turning. He instinctively tightened his grip on the strap of his messenger bag and increased his pace. He sensed that whoever was following him had also increased their pace. He sped up a little more. They sped up a little more, and now Changbin was able to discern that there were odd-sounding footfalls echoing down the alleyways. The sound was muffled; it was not the thump of a shoe or the slap of a bare foot. This wasn’t a person following him. _It’s something worse_ , a small voice echoed in the back of his mind.

Changbin knew there was no one around that could hear a cry for help. He purposefully took a route home from school that left him with as little human contact as possible. This was great for when he was daydreaming and so not paying particularly great attention to where he was walking, but it was terrible for when he was trapped in what was starting to feel like a life-or-death situation and in need of assistance.

Maybe he could make a run for it? But home was still so far away, and Changbin _hated_ running. And he couldn’t lead this thing towards his mother! Plus, he had a sinking feeling that whatever was behind him was far faster than he was. Maybe he could frighten it off, then? He had read somewhere that you could spread yourself out, hands over your head and feet planted wide, to look bigger and thus more intimidating to wild creatures. The thing following him was probably just a stray dog looking for scraps. Hopefully.

 _Well, here goes nothing._ Changbin swung around, throwing both hands up in the air and planting his feet. He came face to face with something that was definitely not a stray dog. The creature was big, bigger than him (even with his fancy power pose). It looked like three creatures mashed into one. The head staring straight at him was that of a lion, complete with a huge mane and sharp, bared teeth. Another head – this one of a goat – stuck out of the side of the creature, one eye trained on him. The creature’s tail had a snake’s head attached to it, hissing softly as it curled around to face him. Changbin slowly lowered his arms. He hadn’t eaten lunch today; this creature wasn’t a spoiled-kimbap-induced hallucination.

An orange glow began building in the back of the lion’s mouth. Changbin knew he was about to be burnt into a pile of ash here, in one of Seoul’s numerous back streets. His mother would be devastated, wouldn’t she? She wouldn’t even have a body to bury. Oh god, his body would be disintegrated! He was going to leave his mother all alone, and he couldn’t do that, but that orange light was growing and he was going to die soon wasn’t he oh god he didn’t want to die what about his mother oh god oh god…

Then, Changbin noticed the doorway two paces back from where he was standing. The shadows were deep and all-encompassing in the frame. He had no clue why he felt a sudden urge to reach those shadows, but he was a little past the point of questioning oddities, and so when the lion beast roared and flames poured from its mouth, Changbin leapt for the doorway. Tongues of fire licked across his back and the exposed skin of his upper arms, but he made it to the frame. With a sharp cry, he fell forward into the door.

Except, there was no door. Changbin felt himself fall into the shadows, which rippled around him as if they were a particularly viscous pool. A second later, he fell to his knees in the dark space at the end of the hall outside his apartment. Changbin might have started crying at that point. He wasn’t sure. His arms hurt like hell, and that lion creature had very nearly killed him for no damn reason, and he had just stepped through shadows like some sort of Cloak and Dagger superhero, and he was exhausted. _God_ , exhausted didn’t even begin to cover it. Moving his limbs was like wading through mud, but he forced himself to stand and stumble the few paces over to his door. His knocking was more like one solid thump as his body collapsed against the door frame. His mother opened the door, and he all but fell into her arms. He was definitely crying, now.

As his mother held him, her “not yet” became “now.” The angry pink burns on the backs of her baby’s arms said that there could not be a third time for this. As much as she despised Camp Half-Blood, it was the only place where he could learn how to defend himself from the creatures that would keep coming after him. She would give her child every chance to succeed – to _live_ – even if that chance could end up just as dangerous. Better the beast one knew that the beast one did not, and Changbin knew nothing of either. He wasn’t safe anymore, not like this, and so that night his mother sat him down and told him everything she knew of his father, Hades, and all that went along with having divine blood. Changbin stayed silent throughout the whole of her explanation, but he began to cry alongside her when she told him he’d have to leave.

“Not forever,” she whispered into his hair, “not forever. But I can’t protect you anymore, and they can. Better yet, they’ll teach you how to protect yourself, and then you can come home to me, okay? You’ll still be close, and it’ll just be over the summers, and I will never leave you. Even if I can’t be with you, I will never leave you.”

The next day, Changbin met the centaur Kang Younghyun (aka Kang Brian) at the gates of Camp Half-Blood. He was sure his shock at seeing the other was poorly disguised despite his mom’s warning about some of the more unorthodox staff and campers. Still, Brian didn’t seem too concerned about Changbin’s blatant lack of manners (though his mom was no-doubt disappointed). The centaur smiled kindly at him and so Changbin, with one last look back at his mother, crossed the threshold into Camp Half-Blood. As soon as he had both feet planted firmly on the camp’s soil, a glowing black skull appeared over his head.

Brian’s face turned grim for a moment. “Ah, so soon? I suppose your mother did call ahead to announce another Big Three child, but…” Brian trailed off at the wide-eyed stare Changbin was giving the hologram above his head.

Before the centaur could say anything to put his mind at ease, a boy came running up the hill. “Brian! Brian! Brian! Is he here yet? Is–” The boy cut himself off abruptly as he noticed Changbin poking at the skull hovering above his head. “He’s here!”

The boy’s shout was enough to snap Changbin from whatever trance he was in. He looked at the boy, startled, then back at his mom, who was watching him with a sad smile.

“I can’t enter the camp, honey,” she said. “But, like I told you: even if I can’t be with you, I’ll never leave you. You need to learn here, and grow strong, and then come back home ready to beat whatever creature wants to harm you. Okay?”

“Okay.” Changbin refused to say more than that, not now, not with people watching. They had said their true goodbyes in the privacy of their small apartment, and Changbin knew that if he stared at his mother much longer he’d likely start crying, again, and so he gave her one last wave before turning back to the centaur and the boy. The boy, who was bouncing on his toes, his lips pressed together in an effort to keep himself from speaking so as to allow Changbin time to say goodbye.

“I’m, uh, Changbin. Seo Changbin. Uh, son of Hades? I guess? Are you supposed to introduce yourself like that, I don’t really–”

“I’m Lee Felix, but just call me Felix! And I’m a son of Persephone so that makes me your brother!” The boy – Felix – spoke in excited, rush words. His voice was deeper than Changbin had expected given his soft features and would likely continue to deepen as he grew older. Damn, Changbin bet he could make some sick growls if he ever tried rapping…

Then Felix’s words registered, and Changbin was snapped from his thoughts. “Wait, what? Brother?”

“Yeah! Since your dad is Hades and my mom is Persephone and they’re married that makes us brothers! Man, I’ve been waiting for you to show up for _forever_ , you have no idea! Oh, actually, I guess we’d really be _step_ brothers since we’re just family by marriage, and I guess technically most demigods are related to each other in some way ‘cause the Olympians were super incestuous, but still! We’ll be, like, more official brothers, you know?” Changbin could only stare at the other boy. “Oh! You’ll have to meet Chan. He’s another child of the Big Three – ah, the Big Three are the three most powerful gods: Zeus, Poseidon, and Hades. Chan’s a son of Poseidon. C’mon, he’s probably by the lake. Oh!” Felix suddenly turned towards Brian. “Brian, can I take him to meet Chan? And maybe the others? And then I’ll take him to the Big House for all the formal introduction stuff, I promise!”

Brian just sighed, half-exasperated, half-fond. “Go on. Changbin, I’ll meet you in the Big House once you two are finished; Felix can show you the way. I promise I’ll explain everything then. For now, go meet some of the other campers. Maybe start a friendship or two; up to you.”

“Obviously Changbin and I are going to be best friends, we’re brothers!” Felix exclaimed, before turning to Changbin. “That is, if you’re okay with that? We can work up to the whole best friends thing, no rush. We can start as just normal friends. You can be normal friends with the others, too! C’mon, they’re probably down this way. We, uh, kinda tend to clump together, since the prophecy thing – you know what, I’ll let Chan explain that, I’m sure you’re one of the eight. And I got to meet you before Chan – ha! He’s going to be so jealous…” Changbin gave one last look at a grinning Brian before letting Felix lightly tug him down the hill and further into Camp Half-Blood.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thanks for reading, and hope you enjoyed! Get ready for Seungmin and Jeongin to join the burgeoning crew next week.
> 
> On a completely different note, I know that life's become kinda crazy the world over, and I hope all of y'all are taking care of yourselves and remaining healthy and sane. Remember to wash your hands often, avoid touching your face, and try your best to maintain healthy habits such as eating well and getting enough sleep! Sending good vibes to you, wherever you may be. <3


	4. Seungmin & Jeongin

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Here come two more wholesome bois! Like Changbin's section, these start to explore the dynamics between the boys a bit more.
> 
> Also on a side note, I've committed a planning oopsie and screwed up the ages of the boys when they first arrive to camp; Minho, Hyunjin, and Changbin should have all arrived about a year younger. I've gone back and edited the previous chapters so the timeline is cohesive, but y'all definitely don't need to reread just for that. Alright, my grievous planning sins out of the way, enjoy the chapter!

As soon as Seungmin was old enough to start asking where his mother was, his father figured he was old enough to know _who_ his mother was. And so, before Seungmin had even made it to five years of age, his father sat him down and told him all about Athena. Seungmin didn’t understand everything his father was saying, not really, but he did understand that his mother was strong, and wise, and a goddess, though that last part had to be kept a secret. Seungmin liked secrets; liked when he was the one with a secret, specifically; and so he easily agreed to his father’s pinky promise to not tell anyone else about Athena, the goddess, his mother.

As Seungmin grew up, his father told him more and more: stories about his mother, about the rest of the Olympians, and the Titans they once fought. He told him the legends of demigods such as Hercules and Perseus and Orpheus (“Demigods such as yourself,” his father added, dotting a gentle finger in the middle of Seungmin’s forehead). When Seungmin was a little older still, his father told him of the multitude of Greek monsters, and how they were very real, and how they might seek to harm him some day, but not for a long time still.

“Then why scare me like this?” Seungmin had asked.

“Because,” his father answered, “knowledge in and of itself is never evil. It can never be evil, though it can be used for such purposes.” At the time, Seungmin didn’t quite grasp the message his father was trying to convey. The words stuck with him regardless, and he often found himself pondering them in the quiet moments snatched between classes or in the dark of his room before sleep. He still didn’t fully comprehend his father’s meaning, but the vague outline of a thought started to form, and so Seungmin was content. After all, “learning is a continual process,” as his father often stated.

Seungmin independently made an effort to educate himself on the world his father was so certain he must eventually join. He read up first and foremost on his mother. One particularly fascinating story was that of her birth. His father was not very forthcoming when Seungmin asked if he, too, sprang from his father’s forehead, fully dressed. Seungmin had vague memories of being a toddler, so he figured he had to have been at least three or so when he was birthed, but then his father showed him baby photos – and yeah, that’s him with his eye-scrunched smile, alright – and promised that he was born a baby, just like everyone else. Seungmin noticed that his father didn’t specify _how_ he was born, so birth-by-forehead was still on the table. He resolved to look into that later.

Seungmin loved that his mother was born ready to go. He wanted to be like that. He wanted to have a strategy for every situation, to know how to best handle himself no matter the scenario. So, he read some more. More stories of his mother, of course – and man, was Arachne a wild ride of a tale – but he also read about the rest of the Olympians. He read up on the Titans, too, and all the monsters his father had mentioned, plus a few dozen extras. He read every history of Ancient Greece he could get his hands on, and then a few on Ancient Rome for good measure. Seungmin read, and he didn’t forget. Every little piece of info was absorbed, categorized, and filed away for a future date. He might not have known when the monsters would come for him, but gods damn him if he wasn’t going to be prepared for that day.

There was one thing that Seungmin didn’t necessarily love about his mother. He didn’t love how she was absent. His father had told him rather early on that it was supposedly customary for godly parents to “claim” their demigod children. Seungmin’s father wasn’t entirely sure what that meant, and Seungmin couldn’t find much about this in the literature. He was kind of hoping that the “claim” meant Athena herself would show up to clap him on the shoulder, or shake his hand, or maybe even kiss him on the forehead. Might’ve been nice, even.

But Athena was the goddess of wisdom, of war, of strategy; of craftsmanship, law and justice, the arts. Athena was the goddess of _heroes_ , and nowhere in her domain lay motherhood, or family, or forehead kisses. So Seungmin understood, really, he did. And then he understood some more, and got the grand idea that maybe Athena wouldn’t recognize him unless he performed a heroic duty. He was a demigod, after all, and according to everything that he had read, demigods were made to be heroes. So, at the start of the summer before his fourteenth birthday, Seungmin asked his father if he could enroll in Camp Half-Blood now, please.

His father looked up from the crossword he had been pondering, confusion slowly dragging itself across his features. “I thought we had agreed that you would enroll in Camp Half-Blood after your fourteenth birthday, pending any monstrous intervention.”

“We had,” Seungmin placed his hands behind his back so his father couldn’t see the nervous twisting of his fingers, “but I believe I should enroll earlier.”

“For what purpose?” His father’s gaze grew suddenly worried. “You haven’t encountered a monster, have you? Have you been hurt?” His father moved to stand from his seat at their small kitchen table, banging his hip into the wood in the process and wincing.

“Father, please, sit down!” Seungmin gently pushed his father back into his seat, before sighing and seating himself adjacent to him. “I haven’t encountered any monsters. I just, well, I think that maybe I’ve learned all that books can teach me for now. I need a more practical education.”

“Practical, hm,” his father murmured to himself, his gaze focused once more on his crossword. “Yes, practical, maybe that would be…”

Seungmin waited patiently. He was used to his father’s method of turning ideas over, half aloud and half within the confines of his mind. Seungmin himself had been known to mumble through particularly complicated thought processes.

After another minute had ticked by, Seungmin’s father looked up from his crossword once more, smiling. “I do believe I must encourage your pursuit for further knowledge.”

Seungmin blinked, his father’s words filtering into his understanding, and then he pushed back from his chair to stand, eyes wide. “You mean…?”

“Yes, Seungmin.” His father’s smile was broad, and so like his own. “You may spend your summer in Camp Half-Blood. You’ll enroll in this upcoming session.”

The weekend passed in a blur of book selecting, list making, and careful packing. Soon enough, Seungmin’s father was dropping him off just outside the gates of Camp Half-Blood with promises to write often and to send along any interesting news articles. Seungmin, standing beside a centaur who had introduced himself as Kang Younghyun-aka-Brian, waved briefly to his father before turning back to the other being. A centaur! Seungmin had read about them, of course, but reading and experiencing were two completely separate realms. He _knew_ he had made the right call in seeking practical experience!

“Well then, Seungmin.” Brian turned to him with a kind smile. “I would offer to take you to orientation at the Big House, but I’m pretty sure you know most of what I would tell you already. So I really don’t think the entirety of orientation is needed in your case. Instead, would you like to visit your cabin and unpack? I know you’re a child of Athena, but until your claim is official, you will have to bunk in the Hermes cabin; that’s where all unclaimed campers reside until their godly parents sees fit to officially claim them. It’s tradition, and so it cannot be changed.” Brian gave him a half-grin, half-grimace paired with a rueful shrug. Seungmin still wasn’t sure what a claim was or when it would happen for him, but he didn’t want to appear unknowledgeable, and so he held his tongue. Brian continued, “it’s the start of the season, so there will be campers beginning to move in for the next week or so. Of course, our few year-long residents are already here. I’m sure any of them would be more than willing to show you around so that you don’t get stuck with me.”

Brian gave him a good-natured smile, and Seungmin wanted to protest and say that, actually, he’d be far more comfortable with Brian than with a kid his age – he was used to talking to his father’s university colleagues and students, anyhow – but Brian was already trotting down a slight hill to what looked like the residential area. Seungmin had no choice but to follow, tugging a suitcase that was 66.6% books along behind him.

The cabin Brian led him to had a golden caduceus hanging over its entrance – the symbol of Hermes, Seungmin recognized – and appeared rather well lived-in.

“There are a fair number of Hermes’ children who attend Camp Half-Blood,” Brian explained. “They’re all very welcoming and will make sure you have a space to call your own until Athena claims you. Well then, I’ll leave you to your unpacking. If you have any questions about the camp, or settling in, or anything else, you can find me in the Big House just up the hill.” Brian gestured past the clump of cabins towards a large white house situated on a cliffside. “We can complete the official orientation at your leisure. I hope this summer ends up a memorable one for you!”

With one last wave, Brian was off, leaving Seungmin staring in growing horror at the hints of mess he could see inside the Hermes cabin. That simply would not do. He hoped the Hermes kids wouldn’t mind a bit of belated spring cleaning, because Seungmin would need his living space to maintain a certain amount of dignity. He pushed his suitcases to the edge of the cabin’s cozy porch, rolled up his sleeves, and faced the challenge that awaited him.

Before Seungmin could even step through the doorway of the cabin, he was accosted by another boy.

“Oh, thank God – the gods, whatever - a newer new kid!” The boy was beautiful despite the garish orange tee shirt he wore. Seungmin was maybe a little starstruck. Then the boy grabbed his wrist. “C’mon, I _have_ to introduce you to the rest, you have no idea how glad I am you’re here! I’ve been the new kid for, like, two years, even though Changbin _definitely_ showed up after me, so how does that even work?” The boy had begun walking further into the residential area, and he must have been pure muscle because, though he was lean, he easily tugged Seungmin along behind him.

“Um...” Seungmin started. He really hoped his suitcase was still on the porch by the time he was able to make it back.

The boy apparently didn’t hear him, mumbling to himself as he continued to drag Seungmin towards what looked like a giant fire pit where two other boys were sitting on adjacent log seats. “Maybe now they’ll finally stop calling me the baby, even though Felix is _half_ a _year_ younger…”

“Um!” Seungmin tried again, slightly pulling his wrist back towards his body.

The other boy stopped, clearly startled, and then seemed to come back to himself with a half-shouted “oh my gods!” He released Seungmin’s wrist quickly. “Oh, wow, I’m so sorry, that was so rude of me, it’s just that I’ve been considered the new one here for what feels like forever and then you showed up and you were a newer kid and I just got excited and–”

The boy cut himself off abruptly, and suddenly his posture changed. He was standing straight and tall, and he gave Seungmin a slight bow. “Please, forgive me my rudeness. My name is Hwang Hyunjin; just Hyunjin is fine. I am a son of Aphrodite.”

Seungmin was largely overwhelmed by nearly everything that had happened since he stepped foot into Camp Half-Blood, and this was perhaps the cherry on top of the whole experience. For once in his life, his brain short-circuited, and all Seungmin could say was, “oh, Aphrodite. That’s why you’re so pretty.”

The boy’s – Hyunjin’s – face fell for half a second before it returned to a polite grin. Seungmin noticed the change, though. Seungmin noticed most things.

“Yup, good genes I guess.” Hyunjin gave a forced laugh, and Seungmin wished he could rewind back to five seconds ago and keep his mouth shut. Too blunt for his own good, really.

“I’m sorry, I didn’t mean it. Or, well, it wasn’t a false statement per se, but I also didn’t mean to, ah, make you uncomfortable?” This conversation was a nightmare. Seungmin quickly switched gears. “I’m Seungmin. Kim Seungmin, but Seungmin is just fine.”

Hyunjin relaxed marginally at that. “Nice to meet you then, Seungmin! Sorry again about the whole near-kidnapping thing. But I really do think you should meet the others! Or, at least the other two here right now. We don’t get new people that often, and with the prophecy–” He cut himself off, giving a little shake of his head. “Actually, I’ll let Chan explain that part. If you want to meet them…?”

Seungmin figured this was as good a place to start racking up some practical experience as any, and Hyunjin seemed kind, if a bit scattered. “Sure, why not?” He smiled at Hyunjin and was met with a beaming smile in return.

“Great! They’re right over there. Guys!” Hyunjin resumed tugging Seungmin over – more lightly this time – while he waved his free hand at the small group of boys. “I met the newest new kid! His name is Kim Seungmin, but just call him Seungmin. Introduce yourselves!”

Hyunjin tugged Seungmin down onto one of the wooden logs near the other two boys.

“Nice to meet you, Seungmin! My name’s Bang Chan, and I’m a son of Poseidon.” Seungmin’s eyebrows shot to his hairline at the curly-haired boy’s words. Chan laughed, a little self-deprecatingly. “I take it you know about the Big Three, then. There’s, uh, actually another one – a Hades kid – though he won’t arrive until next weekend.”

“That’s Changbin, my brother!” Another boy piped up. He had a delicate, freckled face, and was not at all what Seungmin would expect a child of Hades to look like.

“There are two sons of Hades here?”

“Oh! Oh, no.” The freckled boy laughed. “I’m Lee Felix, son of Persephone. So Changbin and I are technically half-brothers.”

Seungmin blinked. That made sense, in a way. Although, so many of the Greek Gods were incestuous that claiming relationships among demigods could probably become a bit challenging. Well, whatever, Felix seemed sweet and very into the concept of having a brother, so who was Seungmin to speak against that?

“There’s usually one more in our little group, Lee Minho,” Chan said, “but, like Changbin, he’ll show up next weekend. Probably. He’s a bit of a wild card, but he’s a son of Dionysus, so it goes with the territory. You’ll hopefully meet them next week!”

“It’s nice to meet the two of you now, then, and it will presumably be nice to meet Minho and Changbin next week.” Seungmin wasn’t sure why he was getting adopted into this little group so quickly after meeting them, but so far they had given him no reason to reject this. Besides, his father was always telling him to make more friends his age.

Chan grinned at him, and Seungmin was surprised (and a bit charmed) to notice his deep dimples. “I believe you’ll fit in with us just fine.”

This obviously indicated something to the rest of the group, as the other boys broke into whoops, with Felix beginning to chant “one of us, one of us.” Seungmin, for his part, was largely confused.

Chan quieted them with a good-natured wave of his hand. “C’mon, don’t scare him off! Sorry about them; I’ve, uh, got a prophecy in the works. I’ll explain the whole thing to you later.” Ah, right, Hyunjin had mentioned something about a prophecy, and Chan. Maybe this would be Seungmin’s chance for a hero’s quest!

“Oh!” Hyunjin exclaimed, breaking Seungmin out of his questing fantasy with a small jolt. “I totally forgot to ask earlier, but who’s your godly parent? You were standing outside the Hermes cabin, right?”

“I’m actually a son of Athena,” Seungmin said. “I just, um, haven’t been claimed. Yet.” He dropped his gaze to the dirt at his feet, his fingers absently picking at the tree bark.

“Ah, yeah, Athena’s a bit tough.” Chan said. “She wants her children to, like, prove themselves or something before they’re claimed. I’m not really sure how it works, to be honest, but maybe we can ask?”

Before Seungmin could ask him what he meant, Chan had jumped up onto the log, glancing around before spotting a rather tall girl walking a past the fire pit area. “Oh, Jeongyeon, perfect.” He raised his voice. “Hey! Jeongyeon! Question for you!”

The other girl turned towards Chan, eyebrows raised but otherwise seeming totally used to the random callouts. Seungmin filed this information away in his “Things I Know About Camp Half-Blood” mental folder. It had been growing at an exponential rate, recently. The girl wandered over towards the small group.

“How’d your claim go? Like, what prompted it?” Chan asked.

Jeongyeon cast an eye over the group, noticed Seungmin, and immediately lit up. “Another Athena kid? Awesome! Nice to meet you, my name’s Jeongyeon, if you haven’t already caught that. Not claimed yet, huh?” Seungmin shook his head. “Ah, don’t worry too much about that. It can take a while. I wasn’t claimed until my second week here; I was fighting some asshole Dionysus kid – no offense to Minho, but I’m sure he’d agree that pretty much every Dionysus kid is an asshole.”

“He would.” Felix smiled.

Jeongyeon smiled back, and continued, “so I was fighting some asshole Dionysus kid – mock battles for practice, don’t worry – and when we take a break, he points over at some Demeter kid who’s just minding her own business, picking fruits or something, and says that he thinks girls with short hair like her are super ugly. So, I take my sword and chop all my hair off, right in front of him. Next thing I know, there’s this little hologram thing floating over my head, and I’ve been claimed by Athena.” Jeongyeon smiled widely, giving Seungmin a thumbs up. “You’ll get claimed soon enough, don’t worry. I gotta go meet Jihyo for lunch, but I’ll catch you guys later.” She left with a wave over her shoulder.

After a dense silence, Chan spoke up hesitantly. “Yeah, I, uh, don’t think you’re going to be able to get your claim with a hair-cutting maneuver.”

Hyunjin patted Seungmin’s hand in what was probably meant to be a placating gesture. Seungmin wasn’t used to so much physical contact. Sure, he hugged his dad occasionally, but Hyunjin seemed to initiate some form of contact every other moment.

Felix, for his part, snorted. “Yeah, Athena’s secretly the goddess of dismantling the patriarchy, so tough luck on that front. Or, wait, would Artemis have that realm?”

“Artemis is more like the goddess of wine aunts.” Seungmin offered hesitantly. Felix laughed, and soon Hyunjin and Chan joined him.

Seungmin smiled a little more openly at their response. Maybe he could make the most of this situation, after all.

…

Jeongin was claimed by Hermes before he even hit his eleventh birthday. The small golden caduceus popped up over his head in the middle of him and his mom’s weekly movie night. (They had been watching _The Secret Life of Walter Mitty_ , which was rather coincidental as Hermes, Jeongin would shortly learn, was the god of travelers. Or maybe not so coincidental as Hermes, Jeongin would learn a fair bit later, was fond of a good inside joke.) Jeongin didn’t know at that time that the symbol was called a “caduceus.” Instead, he referred to it as “the swirly-wing-staff.” It would be almost another two years before he learned its true name; before his mom finally allowed him to attend Camp Half-Blood over the summers. The process leading up to that moment went something like this:

Jeongin, newly claimed and not yet eleven, was excitedly trying to poke the flickering hologram over his head while his mom stared at it with a rather pale face. “Mom, look! What is it? What does it mean?”

His mom paused the movie with a shaking hand, her other hand coming to grasp Jeongin’s own tightly. “It means trouble.”

She said nothing more on the matter. When the caduceus popped up over Jeongin’s head not two months later, this time in the middle of breakfast, his mother’s face collapsed in on itself for a second before she composed herself and resolutely avoided looking at the golden hologram. The caduceus kept popping up, and Jeongin had no clue what the symbol meant, or why it was appearing, or when it would next appear. When he tried to take a picture of it to show his friends at school, the photo inevitably came out blurry. His mom told him nothing about it. He figured the whole subject was taboo, and so he stopped asking about it, for the most part. He still tried his luck with his mom every other occurrence, just to see if maybe she had relented in her self-imposed gag order. He had yet to receive a positive response.

Jeongin was eleven and one-third when he heard his mom mention Camp Half-Blood for the first time. She said it in passing; he’d been pestering her about the little golden symbol – it had popped up four times in the past month, a new record! – when she snapped. “Forget about it, Jeongin! I’m not sending you to Camp Half-Blood!”

His mom realized her mistake about a second too late. Jeongin latched onto the new term like a bloodhound on the scent. She had slipped up once, she could slip up again! He had no clue where Camp Half-Blood was located or what kind of camp it might be. Jeongin desperately wanted to go, regardless. From that first mention, every time the floating hologram appeared, he would ask his mom whether now he could go to Camp Half-Blood. Every time the answer was a strict “no.”

Jeongin was twelve and all he wanted for his birthday was to spend a summer – “Just one summer, Mom, please!” – at Camp Half-Blood. His mother turned him down immediately and instead bought him a bike, which was cool and all, but definitely not as cool as spending a summer at Camp Half-Blood would be. At least, he thought so. His mother had been extremely tight-lipped about the whole thing after she’d let that first “Camp Half-Blood” slip. But still, Jeongin was determined.

Jeongin was just about thirteen and a half and bedazzled with a shining new pair of braces when he overheard a pivotal phone conversation between his mom and a man called Younghyun. He didn’t mean to listen in, not really, but then his mom had whisper-hissed how she didn’t “want him at that camp, Younghyun! He’ll get himself killed!” and, well, that had caught his attention.

He couldn’t quite catch Younghyun’s half of the conversation, but he heard everything his mother said from his place crouched behind the door leading into the kitchen. He heard when his mother said, “I know he’d be close- yes, Younghyun, still in Seoul, even, I know, but–”

There was a pause in the conversation where Jeongin assumed Younghyun was talking, but he was too amped up to even try to catch any of Younghyun’s words. The “camp” his mother was talking about _had_ to be Camp Half-Blood! Jeongin felt this in the depths of his being. And what’s more, Camp Half-Blood was apparently located in Seoul. He was in Seoul! And, sure, Seoul was huge, but with enough time he could probably…

He focused back in on the conversation when his mom started to speak once more. “Sure, twenty minutes would be close if I didn’t know how much could happen in twenty minutes! Younghyun, it’s _dangerous_ there!”

Jeongin was practically vibrating at this point. Camp Half-Blood was twenty minutes from him. His mom didn’t have a car, so that meant the camp was either twenty minutes by foot or twenty minutes by train. Either way, he could very easily search what was twenty minutes from his house. He could find this camp himself! Then, surely, his mom would have to let him go. It sounded like that Younghyun guy wanted him there anyways, so it would be two against one, and maybe someone could finally tell him what exactly was going on with that swirly-wing-staff symbol.

He quietly slipped away from the doorway of his mom’s bedroom and threw himself onto his bed, scrambling for his phone and yanking it from its charger. After a little detective work with Google Maps, Jeongin had two concentric circles of possibility. One covered potential Camp Half-Blood locations twenty minutes from his house via walking, the other via train. He could find the camp, today! He hurriedly stuffed some clothes and essentials into his backpack – just in case he needed to spend the night, you never know – and told his mom he was headed to the library to study. It was one of the few excuses she would actually let him leave the house with, and he figured as long as he came back in the evening with some reading done and some math problems completed, he should be in the clear.

It took him around two hours to navigate the walkable circle. He found no sign of any kind of camp, let alone a Camp Half-Blood. Jeongin was undeterred. There was still the potential that Camp Half-Blood was located twenty minutes from his house by train, and Jeongin had a good feeling about a station located at the edge of the city, near Bukhansen National Park. He wagered he’d find his camp near that stop. He was right.

A little ways away from where the train station emptied out into the streets of Seoul was a nondescript dirt road. Just like he knew which station would lead him to his goal, Jeongin knew this road would take him to Camp Half-Blood, and the answers he had been trying to find for over two years. He hiked his backpack high up onto his shoulders and began walking once more.

At the end of the road, Jeongin found a sturdy metal gate with an overarching sign that read “Camp Half-Blood” in bold letters. He could have cried. He had found the camp, just for it to be closed. The lock wound around the gate looked sturdy. Jeongin pushed his head against the bars, desperately trying to see beyond into what could have been. And then, he found himself falling forwards. The iron gate opened, and Jeongin was inside Camp Half-Blood.

His first response, naturally, was to panic. “Oh no, oh no, oh no…” Jeongin mumbled as he picked the very broken lock up off the ground. How had that happened? He wasn’t even touching it, and he knew he didn’t lean against the gate _that_ hard. He frantically looked around, unsure whether he wanted someone nearby to confess to or if he wanted to make sure no one had witnessed his crime.

There was no one around. Jeongin breathed out a soft sigh, the broken lock still clutched in his hands. A little voice at the back of his mind implored him to find someone and report the broken gate. The little voice sounded suspiciously like his mother. He also still had to find someone to ask about the swirly-wing-staff, which had popped up over his had the moment he had set foot inside the camp and had yet to dissipate. Two birds, one stone.

Jeongin gave one last look as the gate, swung wide open and inviting just about anyone around to waltz right in, and resigned himself to doing the right thing. Running his tongue nervously over the tops of his braces, he started down the hill and further into camp. Hopefully, he’d only get a slight admonishment for breaking the gate. Hopefully, they wouldn’t kick him out before he’d even had a chance to attend Camp Half-Blood.

In another minute or so, Jeongin arrived at what he assumed to be the residential area. Oddly made cabins of various colors and materials all stood silent; there was absolutely no one around. There were plenty of signs of life: books scattered around the porch of a cabin with a stone owl over its door; various swords (were those really swords oh my god) scattered about outside a cabin marked by a boar’s head over its entrance; a neatly tended garden outside a cabin displaying a wheat bundle crest. After a bit more wandering, Jeongin found a cabin that had the same symbol over its door that was currently floating over Jeongin’s head. He very nearly stopped breathing when he spotted it, and then very nearly started crying when he realized that it, too, was empty. Where was everybody? He just wanted someone to tell him why the little golden hologram kept popping up, and then maybe help convince his mother to let him spend the rest of the summer here.

Jeongin gradually became aware of the sounds of shouting and splashing echoing up from somewhere past the cluster of odd cabins. People! He took off at a quick pace towards the sound, emerging from the last group of cabins to find a large lake which contained what appeared to be the entire population of the camp racing across the surface in multi-colored canoes. Well, the entire population minus one.

On the banks of the lake stood a boy maybe a couple years older than Jeongin. He couldn’t tell at this distance, but Jeongin thought the boy might’ve been kicking rocks. The boy would look up at the canoes every so often before kicking rocks with a slightly increased frequency. It seemed like the boy hadn’t been allowed to take place in the canoe race and was most likely sulking over this fact. Jeongin didn’t know, and Jeongin didn’t care. He had so many questions to ask, and here was someone onto which he could foist the lot of them. Tugging his backpack higher up onto his shoulders, Jeongin barreled down the hill and towards the boy on the shore.

Despite Jeongin not trying at all to keep a low profile, the other boy didn’t notice him until Jeongin paused a few feet away and cleared his throat. The other boy’s head shot up, his eyes widening as they landed on Jeongin, and widening more when they caught sight of the little symbol floating above his head.

“Hi!” Jeongin started, “My name is Yang Jeongin, and I accidentally broke your gate, and I’m sorry about that, but do you know what this thing is?” He pointed to the symbol above his head with one hand, holding out the broken lock with the other.

The other boy blinked once, twice, then broke into a full, dimpled smile. “Jeongin, huh? It’s nice to meet you. My name’s Bang Chan – just Chan is fine. Don’t worry about the gate; it’s usually open this time of year anyways; we just locked it as a precaution for the canoe races, but since you were able to get in despite that, it probably means you were meant to be here. And that little symbol over your head is a caduceus; it’s the sign of Hermes.”

It was Jeongin’s turn to blink. “Hermes? Like, that expensive American brand?”

Chan laughed. “No, no; Hermes like the Greek god. It’s your claim! It means you’ve been accepted as a son of Hermes.”

Jeongin’s head was spinning. A son of Hermes? His mom had always told him his dad had been a traveler. When he said as much to Chan, the boy laughed again. “Well, I guess Hermes is a traveler, in a way. He’s the messenger of the gods, so he’s always zipping around the globe. But I’m guessing you haven’t had much of this explained to you, huh?” Jeongin shook his head. Chan smiled softly at him. “How about you keep me company then, and while we wait for the canoe races to end, I can go over the basics with you? Then I can take you to meet Brian – he’s basically the camp’s director, he’s overseeing the races right now – and he can do all the official ‘welcome to Camp Half-Blood’ stuff. Sound good?”

Jeongin nodded, before pausing. “Brian…?” He sounded the English name out on his tongue, the syllables heavy.

“Yeah, Brian! Or, I guess he also goes by Younghyun, and he says he goes by Young K to but I have yet to hear literally anybody call him that.” Chan gave Jeongin a good-natured eye-roll. “So, you okay to wait here for a bit?”

Jeongin ignored his question at first. The name Younghyun seemed very familiar, and that familiarity scratched at the sides of his brain before he was finally able to connect the dots between the man his mom had been talking with on the phone and the name. Oh no, his mom! She definitely still thought he was at the library, and she definitely thought he’d be coming home soon, and he definitely wasn’t going to be home for quite a while if these explanations took as long as Jeongin suspected.

“Ah! Um, can you give me a minute to call my mom first? I kind of told her I was going to the library, and she’s probably not going to be too happy that I’m here instead. I think she really, really dislikes Camp Half-Blood, but this little ca-… caud-…cadoo-… this little symbol has been popping up for, like, two years now, and I figured Camp Half-Blood would be the place to learn about it, and I was right, but I also think my mom’s gonna be really upset that I’m here, so I should call her sooner rather than later. Yeah.”

Chan’s eyebrows had been steadily rising throughout Jeongin’s whole speech. They stayed elevated as he spoke. “Two years, huh? Man, I though Changbin’s mom was bad, but your mom takes the cake. Uh, anyways, you won’t be able to call her with that,” he gestured at the phone Jeongin had taken out of his pocket, “since cell service doesn’t work here. We can get in touch with her at the Big House later, but we’ll have to wait for Brian – ah, that is, Younghyun – to come back for that.”

Okay, that sounded like a good plan. Jeongin said as much to Chan, who smiled yet again and led him over to a decently sized rock at the edge of the lake’s shore. They sat down, and Chan began to explain, good-naturedly putting up with Jeongin’s many interruptions. Jeongin was determined to get as much information out of Chan as possible, and the other boy seemed more than willing to comply. For now, Jeongin decided, he would learn as much as he could. He could worry about his mom later. Jeongin had finally made it to Camp Half-Blood, and he was going to try his best to stay.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hope y'all enjoyed! We just have one more boi to round out the squad, so look forward to Jisung's story in the next chapter! And then the plot will actually begin lol. 
> 
> On a separate note, times continue to be just a little bit surreal. It's so important that we remain kind to each other in times like these! Message a friend, tell a family member you love them, hug your pet. Stay healthy, stay happy, stay kind. Sending good vibes all of y'all's ways! <3 <3 <3


	5. Jisung

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Guess who's updating a day early, as a treat??? I finished this chapter quicker than expected and figured I might as well post it a day early so y'all can finally learn how Jisung joins The Gang (TM) at Camp Half-Blood!
> 
> Also, just as a heads-up, this chapter deals with minor character death and some blood/violence. Nothing too explicit, but some shit does go down. So, be prepared (or be pumped, if action is more your thing)!

It was mid-July, and Jisung had been eagerly anticipating the fast-approaching summer vacation (his first as a teenager!) when his entire world shifted. He had just gotten out of class for the day and was agonizing over a particularly rough English assignment when he received a seemingly nonsensical message from his mom: "seoul camp hb."

At first, he thought his mom had mistakenly sent him something she meant to save as a note for herself. Seoul, he reasoned, likely referred to Seoul, South Korea. Camp seemed pretty obvious in and of itself, though he had no clue why she’d be making a note about a camp. Maybe she was thinking of sending him to a summer camp in Seoul? He had been wanting to return to Korea for a while, now. He hardly remembered his birth country; all his late childhood had been spent in Malaysia. A summer camp in Seoul would be nice, though he’d miss his mom. Oh, and there was that “hb” bit, too. He had no clue what that was supposed to mean. Happy birthday? His birthday was a long way back, and a long way still to come. Though, knowing his mom, a summer camp in Seoul could be a super belated birthday gift. Jisung had definitely whined to her on multiple occasions about how much work he was getting now that he was in secondary school. Maybe she meant for the summer camp to be a kind of celebration-slash-reward for making it through the school year?

 _Summer camp would be fun!_ Jisung decided. For the 20-minute walk home from school, he maintained the blissful illusion of attending a surprise summer camp which his mom had no doubt worked double shifts to afford. His mom was great! He was looking forward to s’mores, and canoeing, and camp songs, and…

Then he arrived at the door of their one-bedroom apartment, and the illusion was shattered. The door was half-open, the knob ripped from its usual position and lying, battered, on the floor.

Jisung was caught between two urges. The first wanted him to get as far away from there as he possibly could. The second wanted him to rush inside and check on his mom. The second urge easily beat the first.

Subconsciously holding his breath, Jisung stepped over the threshold into his apartment. His phone was in his hand, emergency number ready to dial. Just in case. He probably wouldn’t need it. This was probably just a huge misunderstanding; his mom was having the locks changed, or there had been an accident involving a heavy object and the door handle, or a really big dog had whacked the door with its tail, or…

Jisung stopped after three steps. He was in their little kitchen, and there were stains on the floor. Dull, reddish-brown stains.

 _Ketchup spill_ , he thought to himself, semi-hysterically. Both he and his mom hated ketchup, and there was none in the apartment. Then, the smell began to filter in: metallic, bitter, _wrong_. It smelled like something Jisung was trying very hard not to acknowledge.

He tore his eyes up from the stain on the floor, noticing for the first time that the apartment was in a state of disarray. Draws were flung open, furniture was knocked over, and the couch cushions were torn and leaking stuffing all over their small living space. His mom’s cellphone lay in the center of the carnage. Its screen was badly cracked, and it was resting in a sizable red pool.

 _Kool-aid_ , Jisung thought weakly. He found himself unable to move. His legs were barely able to hold him upright, let alone take a step forward.

Without being fully aware that he was doing so, Jisung hit the call button on his phone. After one ring, the line picked up, and a soothing female voice was asking him what his emergency was.

“I, um,” Jisung cleared his throat. The voice wasn’t anything like his mom’s, and yet… “I think someone broke into my house. I live at 38 Jalan Utara, Imbi. I, uh, I think they hurt my mom.” His last words were spoken barely above a whisper, but the woman on the other end of the line heard him. She reassured him that help was on the way, to sit tight, to stay safe and stay calm. She asked if he could stay on the line.

“I, yeah, I can–” Jisung cut himself off. Something moved. One of the pillows lying limp on the floor was nudged, slightly. “I think the person’s still here.”

Jisung didn’t get a chance to hear the response to his whispered confession. The pillows in the living room were definitely moving now, being kicked out of the way like someone was quickly advancing on him. Someone Jisung couldn’t see.

His initial urge to flee came back in full force. Jisung pivoted, sprinting the three steps out of his apartment and the many more down onto the street. He couldn’t be sure, but he felt that whatever had been in his apartment was close behind. He kept moving.

 _The trains_ , he thought. He needed to get away, fast. Every alarm bell in his head was ringing out that he couldn’t just wait around and hide until this thing went away. The main station was about an hour from his house, but Jisung was positive he could make it there in half that time at the rate he was moving. He didn’t know where all the extra energy was coming from. Adrenaline, maybe? He wasn’t exactly a sports type, but he was having no issues keeping a near-breakneck pace as he navigated the streets of Kuala Lumpur.

He would have to cross the Klang River to get to the train station, he realized once his brain tuned back in to the situation at hand. There were bridges, of course, but there was also a highway that stretched over the river. A highway that stretched over the train tracks.

 _I could jump onto a train_ , he thought, and then immediately questioned himself. That kind of maneuver would get him killed. It was the kind of insane, throwaway thought a panicked brain was likely to come up with and subsequently ignore once the more rational bits took over. And yet, the thought kept circling through Jisung’s head: _I could jump onto a train, I could jump onto a train, I should jump onto a train, I have to jump onto a train._

Jisung knew that he was still being chased – still being tracked. He might not make it to the train station, but he would be able to make it to the overpass where the highway arched over the train tracks. He’d have to make it. And then, he’d have to make the jump.

The overpass came up quicker than Jisung was expecting. Luck must have been on his side, as a train was heading out at that very moment: northward-bound, out of the city and up towards central Asia.

 _Up towards Seoul_ , Jisung realized, and then he had his destination. _That_ was what his mom had texted: instructions for him. Get to Seoul, then find this “camp hb.” She had been telling him where to go to stay safe.

Jisung had no time for the multitude of emotions that came along with that revelation. He was seconds away from the midpoint of the overpass, almost directly over the silver back of the train quickly passing underneath him. The distance between him and whatever had been chasing him was rapidly decreasing.

 _Jump_ , his mind screamed, and Jisung obliged just as the tail end of the train whipped out from below the overpass. He shot through the air as if fired from a gun, slamming into the sloped back of the train and desperately scrambling to hold on. He managed to find a solid handhold and turned back to look at the shrinking overpass behind him. He felt more than heard a deep growl as something watched him ride away. A section of sky just above the middle of the overpass seemed to shiver, as if a concentrated heat wave was affecting just that area. Whatever had chased Jisung – whatever had attacked his mother – existed, invisible, in that space. Jisung knew it would not let him go so easily. For now, though he was safe.

As soon as this realization hit him, Jisung felt the energy bleed out of his body. He was left exhausted and clinging to the back of a train that was rapidly gaining speed. His arms became more and more fatigued, and Jisung was scared that he’d fall off the train if he didn’t find a way inside. There was a door on the side of the train’s sloped back; he could reach it with one final push.

Closing his eyes for a moment and willing his body to hold on another twenty seconds, Jisung forced his eyelids up and began to carefully pick his way down towards the door. When he was within reach, he shakily extended one arm and tugged on the door handle. It was locked.

Jisung could’ve cried. He could’ve cried for a lot of reasons, actually, and was barely holding it together as it was, but this recent development was very close to pushing him over the edge. Jisung tried the handle again, desperation pouring off him in waves. _Please, please God just open, please…_

A painful jolt of static electricity singed the fingers tugging at the door handle. Jisung pulled his hand back with a small yelp. As he did so, the door slid open. Jisung could’ve cried again, for a very different reason, as he eased himself into what seemed to be an empty engine car. The door slid shut behind him with a small hiss, and Jisung was alone.

As soon as it was no longer necessary to remain upright, Jisung's legs crumpled and he slumped up against the wall of the car. How was this his life? God, he'd been so concerned about his English grade earlier today, and now he was running for his life and his mother was already…

Jisung cut himself off. He couldn't think like that, couldn't allow himself to go down that path. Not now. Not when he needed to focus his entire being on making it to Seoul. Maybe he should've called the police. Maybe he should’ve presented himself to the nearest adult on the train and begged for help. He so desperately wanted to put this problem into someone else's hands. But his mom hadn't texted him to get help. His mom had told him to get to Seoul and to find a “camp hb;” nothing more. Jisung had trusted - _did_ trust - his mom with his life, now quite literally. So, he didn't call the authorities. He didn't seek help from any adults. He stayed in the empty train car.

Jisung did manage to find an outlet tucked into the corner of the car. He plugged in his nearly dead phone, finding his location on google maps. He was heading north, as expected. A quick google search revealed the route he was on. The furthest north he could get on this line was Bangkok, and it would take around twenty-four hours to get there. Jisung wasn’t even sure if he should take this line all the way up to Bangkok. Whatever had been chasing him had seen him jump on this train: if he could find his destination so easily, surely it could, too. On the other hand, he had managed to sneak onto this train for free, and if he played his cards right, he could probably avoid encountering anyone else and thus completely bypass border control when entering Thailand. He couldn’t pass through the border the legal way; it wasn’t like he had his passport. He had nothing on him expect his backpack, and that only held a few snacks, his half-drank water bottle, his school notes, headphones, and wallet. He was still in his school uniform, even! He did have a debit card that he could use should he find an ATM, but it wasn’t like he and his mom were super well off. He didn’t have the money for multiple train rides or ferries or flights or whatever else it would take to get to Seoul.

As Jisung tried to manage the logistics of his seemingly impossible journey, his breathing began to quicken. His lashes grew wet as he started blinking quicker, his eyes staring past his phone screen. How was he going to do this? As much as he talked big about being a teenager now, he was really still just a kid. A kid who missed his mother.

Jisung stuffed his fist into his mouth as the first sob wracked his body. He couldn’t afford to be heard, but he also couldn’t keep the grief inside any longer. His mom was dead. His mom was _dead._ Jisung curled into himself, phone abandoned beside the outlet as he wrapped his free arm around his knees and leaned further into the thin, metal wall. His shoulders shook as he gasped out silent, shuddering cries. His teeth dug into the thin skin on top of his knuckles, leaving indents. In the very back of a train heading north, Jisung fell apart.

He wasn’t sure how much time had passed when he started coming back into himself. His eyes felt puffy beyond belief and his throat was dry and he had been using his chemistry notes as tissues. Despite this, Jisung felt himself thinking clearer. It was like a switch had been flipped; suddenly, he had the beginnings of a plan. Reaching back behind himself, Jisung flicked his phone back on and discovered around an hour had passed. Alright, good. Plenty of time to work out a route, maybe see if it was possible to sneak into the main body of the train to steal some food and use the bathroom (which was an inevitability he’d have to plan for, too), and figure out how to survive. His mother had given him this gift: this body, this life. Jisung was damn well going to try to preserve himself, for her.

Riding this current train all the way to Bangkok was a simple enough decision. As he’d noted earlier, he was undetected in the engine car. No one was likely to come back here until the train reached Bangkok. He could pass through border control undetected, and he wouldn’t have to pay anything for the many miles covered. As for the potential that whatever had followed him would figure Bangkok as his last stop, well, Jisung figured he could jump off the train before he actually reached the city. Just as he had been certain he could jump onto a train, Jisung was certain he could jump from a train with little to no difficulty. Then he could circumnavigate the city and remain, hopefully, undetected. So, first leg of the journey, complete.

Some more googling revealed another train that traveled from Bangkok to Kunming, China. With some luck (and another well-positioned overpass), Jisung figured he could likely make it onto this train for free (and thus pass another border without needing his passport). That’d be another 12 hours, likely. Second leg of the journey down, easy.

This was where things started to get a bit murky. He would have to get a train from Kunming to Tianjin Port, where he could then get a ferry to South Korea. China had a lot more people – like, a _lot_ a lot – and so it would become much more likely that someone would spot him breaking into a train. Honestly, he had lucked out in Kuala Lumpur, and he was banking on there being a remote area just outside Bangkok where he could perform his train jumping maneuver unseen. He would likely have to use an ATM in Kunming, get some cash, and purchase passage on a train the legal way. The ATM could be risky: what if whoever had chased him could track his debit card? Still, if he used the ATM solely in Kunming, he’d be able to use cash to pay for his ticket to Tianjin. The train would take a while – nearly 47 hours – but it’d be easier to get off a train than an airplane if shit hit the fan. The train cost also didn’t look too high: he’d be able to get a bunk, maybe, and maybe he could buy food in Kunming to last him the rest of the trip. Alright; third leg tentatively planned.

Once in Tianjin Port, Jisung could get another train to Tanggu International Ferry Terminal and then buy a ferry ticket to take him to Incheon. That ticket would be pretty expensive, but he didn’t really have a choice. Besides, he could afford it, barely. (He really hoped that he wouldn’t have to pay for whatever camp hb ended up being; he was pretty sure his funds would be depleted by the time he arrived there.) The ferry would be another 25 hours and would be a little less accommodating of an easy exit strategy. Again, he didn’t really have a choice. He couldn’t risk the airports and all the security measures he’d have to go through. He had his Korean ID on him – his mother made him get one at 13, “just in case,” and now he was starting to understand why – and so he should be able to get a ferry ticket. An airplane ticket was probably a no-go, and probably also too expensive. Okay, okay; fourth leg done.

The last part of his journey should be the easiest. Jisung could exchange whatever remained of his Chinese yuan for Korean won at the port, and then get a series of relatively cheap buses that would take him to Seoul in an hour or two. He was still not quite sure what he was supposed to find once he got to Seoul, but he had over a hundred hours to figure it out. If all else failed, he could probably just start asking around about a ‘camp hb,’ which actually now that he thought about it sounded absolutely awful, he can’t walk up to strangers and say hi, let alone ask a favor! Jisung tabled that idea as Plan Last Resort, and vowed to figure out what camp hb was before he arrived in Seoul. Last leg complete.

Almost as soon as he finished typing the last of his plan into his notes app, Jisung let out a huge yawn. The little planning switch in his brain flicked back off, and he was left utterly exhausted. Jisung didn’t think he’d ever been so drained in his life. He had no energy to move, or think, or even keep his eyes open. He did have twenty-two hours to kill. Might as well spend most of them unconscious. A dreamless sleep actually sounded pretty nice to Jisung at the moment: an opportunity to just… not think. He laid down on the floor, his backpack a rather poor substitute for a pillow but still better than nothing, and closed his eyes. A few minutes later, he was asleep.

His journey, on the whole, went surprisingly according to plan. Sure, there were a few hiccups – he overshot his jump while in Bangkok and had to scutter back along the very terrifying roof of the train, for instance – but for the most part, the journey was smooth, if exhausting. Jisung was sure he wasn’t eating or drinking nearly enough, and he was beyond fatigued. But he much preferred the nerve-wracking transitions between transportation routes than the long stretches of silence interspersed between them. The silence ate at Jisung. He was introverted by nature, but he still needed to form and maintain a few close bonds to keep himself sane. By himself, in the quiet… his brain did funny things. He kept relieving the afternoon he found his mother: the stains on the floor, the disarray, the smell…

He broke down in every long, quiet period he experienced. Sometimes, the breakdowns were quick and relatively contained. Sometimes he would bounce from one right into another. The train ride from Kunming to Tianjin Port was particularly rough; he spent nearly half of that trip (so basically a full day, not fun) in a semi-catatonic state. It was just, he had seen a woman while boarding the train who had laughed in such a similar manner to his mom. He couldn’t handle it. Following this, he had quickly tucked himself up into his bunk and stared at the wall for a good twenty hours or so. He might’ve slept; he couldn’t be sure. He’d been able to rouse himself at the halfway point of the trip, but that had still been a rough one for him.

Thankfully, the subsequent train ride to the port and boarding the ferry all went smoothly. His Korean ID was enough to get him on the ferry, as he’d hoped. He spent the ferry ride in relative calm, with only one short breakdown weathered in a bathroom stall. He hadn’t made any progress in deciphering “camp hb,” but that was okay. He’d have more resources to work on that once he was in the city itself. He wasn’t worried. He had made it this far, after all! He was sleep deprived and half-starved and definitely not anywhere near a healthy mental state, but he was almost there.

An hour of figuring out bus schedules, nearly getting on the wrong one, apologizing frantically in Korean (and wow, did the language make him miss his mom all the more acutely), and sinking into his seat with his ears bright red altogether left him right at the edge of Seoul, just past the infamous Mapo Bridge. He was so close. Then, things went to shit.

Jisung had walked maybe a half mile into Seoul, scouring the street signs around him intently for anything that could be related to camp hb, when he felt the eyes on him. He quickly spun around, searching for anything that seemed out of place. He found nothing. Despite this, he knew that he was being watched. More specifically, he knew that he was being watched by the same presence that had chased him through Kuala Lumpur what felt like eons ago. Just as he had in Kuala Lumpur, Jisung broke into a run.

Why was this happening now? He thought he had been careful during his trip: outside of that one visit to an ATM in Kunming, he had used cash to pay for everything. His mom wasn’t even from this part of Korea; there was nothing to indicate he would head for Seoul! Unless… what if whatever was chasing him knew about camp hb, too? What if it had bet Jisung would head for Seoul, and so had been waiting for him here the entire time?

Jisung felt tears pricking the corners of his eyes as he ran. He angrily rubbed them away; now wasn’t the time, _Jisung, god, get a hold of yourself, c’mon_. He bumped into businessperson after businessperson but couldn’t be bothered to respond to their indignant cries. He could still feel the eyes on him, following him down alleyways and around tight corners. God, he didn’t even know where he was going.

 _North_ , something inside Jisung commanded. _Head north._ For reasons unclear, Jisung trusted whatever instinct it was that told him to start travelling north. For reasons even more unclear, Jisung knew exactly which direction north was located. He made a hard left on the next street he saw and increased his already brutal pace. He was _so goddamn close…_

Minutes passed by as blinks for Jisung. One moment he was in the heart of Seoul with towering buildings and brilliant displays all around him. The next moment he was in the outskirts of the city and things were quieter. He was followed all the way. He suddenly became aware of the fact that he was heading towards a dense forest, bald-headed mountains peeking over the tree line in the far distance.

 _Keep going_ , his instinct urged. Jisung obeyed. He flew by a sign advertising Bukhansen National Park and then took a sharp left at the sudden insistence of whatever instinct had been guiding him so far. A moment later, Jisung passed the tree line. Just like in Kuala Lumpur, Jisung did not feel fatigued from his long stretch of near-sprinting. Just like in Kuala Lumpur, Jisung chalked this up to adrenaline. However, once in the forest, he had to slow his pace significantly to avoid tripping. As soon as he slowed, Jisung felt the full force of his previous exertion crest over him. He staggered a few steps, nearly avoiding a face-first encounter with the sturdy trunk of a tree. Still, Jisung forced himself to keep moving. He knew camp hb was near, whatever those initials actually meant. He also knew that whatever was behind him was gaining ground.

“Please,” Jisung whispered. He wasn’t sure who the word was for, but the forest around him accepted it regardless. A moment later, something came into view.

It was faint, but Jisung could tell that the air a few dozen paces in front of him was different. It shimmered slightly, as if full of near-translucent glitter. The tree line started to thin after that point, and Jisung thought he could make out a lake in the distance, and what looked like an archery range. That was camp hb, Jisung was sure of it.

Ten feet from the shimmering wall of air, something grabbed hold of Jisung’s backpack and tugged. Jisung was yanked backwards a few steps before he had the sense to twist his arms out from the backpack straps. He fell forward with the sudden shift in momentum, his right knee coming down painfully on the edge of a rock.

“Help!” he screamed. Was there even anyone around to hear him? Jisung didn’t know, but he screamed again, throwing his body forward towards the odd air. His right leg could no longer support his weight, so he was half-limping, half-scrambling forward. If he could reach that border, he’d be safe, he _knew_.

Something slammed into Jisung’s back, sending him sprawling back onto the forest floor. It was immediately followed by a whipping sensation at his left side.

“Up, godling,” a deep voice hissed from above Jisung. “I will not kill a creature such as you while you wallow on the ground. Up!” The command was followed by another whipping sensation across his back, and Jisung cried out as his vision went momentarily dark. He was still inching his way towards the shimmering boundary.

“Are you deaf, godling?” A great hand engulfed Jisung’s left arm. He was yanked to his feet. With a sickening pop, he felt his left shoulder dislocate. Jisung screamed.

His opponent scoffed, carelessly turning Jisung around and throwing him against the nearest tree. “Is that all you know how to do? Scream, and cry for help? Tch, the godling is so like his mother.” Jisung still couldn’t see his opponent, but he felt how their lips curled into a smile.

“Shut up,” Jisung said. His words were weak and his body ached and he was barely keeping himself upright against the tree on his one good leg.

“Oh, so the godling can speak! Then do you want to hear how it went down, godling? How I killed your mother?”

“Shut up!” The words were a bit stronger now. His heart pounded in his ears. From far away, Jisung though he heard the sound of a horn being blown.

“Do you want to hear how she, too, screamed? How she, too, cried for help? How her blood was so red and so bright when–”

Jisung cut in with a scream of wordless fury. Something clenched inside of him, and then surged up and out, trailing down his arms and sparking at his fingers. Jisung lifted his hands and pushed them out towards where the voice had been taunting him. Lightning surged out of him, colliding with his invisible assailant. It was their turn to scream. Jisung did not stop, lightning pouring from his hands as he continued to yell his grief into the forest air. Eventually, his assailant went silent. Jisung’s hands dropped.

He could now see the body lying still in front of him. It had the upper body of a large man, but where its legs should have been there were instead two serpent tails. It was not moving. It was not breathing. As Jisung watched, the body slowly disintegrated into a thin layer of golden dust which settled overtop the forest floor.

Jisung sank down the trunk of the tree until he was seated at its base. He felt nothing but exhaustion, deep and heavy. A moment later, a boy with dark, curly hair appeared in front of him. The boy was yelling something about a giant and something else about a son of Zeus and might have been telling someone to wait, Jisung wasn’t sure. He did not have the energy left to pay attention. He did catch the soft “are you alright” and saw the hands hovering in front of him. Jisung silently shook his head no.

“Eat this, but slowly,” the boy said, offering him a small cube of what looked like shortbread. Jisung took it numbly and started to nibble. A wave of warmth instantly washed through him, and the pain from his shoulder and side and back and knee melted away. Jisung began to cry yet again when he realized the cube tasted exactly like the cheesecake his mom had made for him on his 13th birthday.

“Hey now, it’s gonna be okay. You’re safe; we can take care of you. I’m Chan, okay? I wish it were under better circumstances, but I’m glad to meet you.”

Jisung finished the last of the cube, not bothering to wipe the tears from his cheeks. “Jisung.”

“Nice to meet you, Jisung.” The other boy – Chan, was it? – repeated. He smiled at Jisung, and Jisung was momentarily distracted by the appearance of two deep dimples.

Then, he remembered his original goal. “Is this camp hb?”

Chan’s expression quickly shifted to startled, and then confused. “Camp hb? Oh!” His face eased back into a smile. “You mean, Camp Half-Blood? Then yup! It’s officially just past that border back there.” Chan gestured to the shimmering air a few feet away. Jisung noticed for the first time that there was a cluster of other boys watching his interactions with Chan. There was also a... horseman? There was a name for them, Jisung knew, he just couldn’t remember what it was. God, he was tired. But, he was here. He was here.

“I made it,” Jisung whispered, more to himself than Chan.

Chan heard him regardless, and gave Jisung another soft smile as he helped him to his feet. “Yeah, Jisung. You made it. Welcome to Camp Half-Blood.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> And Jisung joins the squad!!! Our boys are finally all together, bless. The next chapter or so will probably be camp life and character dynamics, and then we'll get started on our actual quest-related plot line!
> 
> Hope you all are doing well mentally and physically. Try to practice social distancing, but also remember that you can still reach out to people via text or call or Skype or whatever! Just 'cause you're social distancing doesn't mean you have to be socially distant! Now, more than ever, we should treasure the relationships we have and work to uphold them. Keep washing your hands, keep sleeping, keep eating, keep engaging in the world the best that you can, and I'll see you all next week!


	6. Brekkie

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So this chapter was originally supposed to be, like, half as long, but then Jisung and Chan started interacting and I just love their bond so much??? And then all the other boys come along and then all of a sudden we were at 6000 words. Not too much happens plot-wise this chapter, but hopefully y'all enjoy the character interactions!

Jisung’s first day at Camp Half-Blood was, quite simply, overwhelming. He had barely crossed the border into the camp when a shimmering blue-white lightning bolt appeared over his head. The few whispers being passed among the other gathered boys grew silent.

Chan, who had been standing as a buffer of sorts between Jisung and the rest, let out a low whistle when the hologram appeared. “I mean, we all saw what you did with the lightning, but still. Between you, me, and Changbin,” he gestured to a boy in a black hoodie whose hood was up despite the summer heat, “we’ve got the whole Big Three covered.” He let out an awkward chuckle. Jisung understood maybe a quarter of what he said.

“Son of Zeus, can I ask your name?”

Jisung turned to the speaker. _The horseman._ Jisung knew there was a specific term for that, he just couldn’t quite place it…

It took a few moments too many of the horseman staring patiently at Jisung, eyebrows slowly creeping up his face, before Jisung realized the question was directed at him.

“Ah! Jisung!” He exclaimed, before shrinking back from his own loud voice. “I mean, my name is Jisung. Han Jisung.” He let himself slide more fully behind Chan’s back, wishing desperately that he had a beanie he could tug down over his reddening ears.

“It is nice to meet you, Han Jisung. My name is Younghyun, but you may also call me Brian; I’m the camp director. I’m also a centaur, as you can no doubt see.” _Centaur, that was the word!_ Younghyun – Brian – continued to speak, “I am sure Chan has already done so, but may I be the second to welcome you to Camp Half-Blood.”

“I’ll be the third! Welcome to Camp Half-Blood!” A boy spoke up from the huddle, his deep voice a stark contrast to his delicate features. He flashed Jisung a near-blinding smile, and Jisung swore the grass around him grew a little greener with the action.

“Then I’ll be–”

“I’m sure Jisung is tired.” Brian quickly cut off a tall, elegant (and a bit intimidating, if Jisung was being honest) boy, effectively stopping the welcome wagon before it could crash into Jisung. Brian turned back to Jisung, smiling gently. “I’m sure your journey must have been exhausting. I’m also sure you have many questions. The Big House will be a much more comfortable place to seek both answers and rest, if you could follow me?”

Following Jisung’s hesitant nod, Brian then addressed the rest of the boys. “There will be plenty of time for welcoming after Jisung has had the chance to rest and have his questions answered. Until then, please, be patient.”

With minimal grumbling, the mass of boys began trudging their way back through the last few tress and towards what Jisung assumed was the center of camp. Chan made to follow them, and Jisung surprised both Chan and himself when his hand shot out to grab the edge of Chan’s bright orange shirt. Chan turned back towards Jisung, eyebrows raised.

“Um,” Jisung began, rather elegantly.

Thankfully, Chan seemed to sense what Jisung wanted to say. “I can tag along too, if you’d like? I’ve been here for quite some time and so can offer you a camper’s perspective on all of this!”

“That’d be great,” Jisung mumbled. He didn’t want to let on just how completely in-over-his-head he felt by all of this: the well-meaning other boys, the half-horse half-man camp director, his very recent close-call with death. His nation-spanning journey. His mother. Jisung also hoped it wasn’t completely obvious that he had all but imprinted on Chan like a fucking baby duck.

Chan must have been used to shepherding any lost souls that wound up at Camp Half-Blood, as he simply offered Jisung yet another dimpled smile and held out a hand, palm up. Jisung latched onto it.

The glowing lightning bolt above his head didn’t fade the entire walk to the aptly named Big House. Jisung could feel eyes on him, though he didn’t see more than a handful of campers – all dressed in the same orange shirts – on the way to the house. He also caught glimpses of a few beings that didn’t look all that human. The closer they got to the white-walled house, the closer he migrated towards Chan. By the time they reached the wrap-around porch, Jisung was nearly plastered to the side of the older. Chan had moved from grasping Jisung’s hand to wrapping an arm around his shoulders.

Once inside with the door closed behind him, Jisung felt himself relax somewhat. Brian led them a little further into the house, into what appeared to be a rather well-loved living room. There was a fireplace with a small flame licking around a solitary log. The walls were decorated with a multitude of colorful drawings. A long couch took up the full length of one side of the room. On the floor, a collection of bean bags and large pillows were scattered across an assortment of brightly colored and somewhat shoddily made rugs.

“Weaving is one of the camp electives,” Chan explained when he saw Jisung staring at something that could only loosely be described as a rug, “and none of us are very good at it. Well, Seungmin is, but he’s an Athena kid, so…” Chan trailed off as if that explained everything. Jisung continued to stare at the so-called rug. His head had begun to ache, lightly, and the last dregs of adrenaline were working their way out of his system. He was so tired.

“How about the two of you sit down?” Brian gestured to the couch. Chan guided Jisung over, and as soon as Chan released the arm that had been firmly wrapped around Jisung’s shoulders, Jisung all but collapsed against the worn cushions. Chan sat beside him with a little more grace, maneuvering himself so that their shoulders remained pressed together. For maybe the fourth or fifth time that hour, Jisung could have cried at his thoughtful actions.

“So, Jisung, how would you like to proceed? I can give you a brief explanation of Camp Half-Blood and all it entails, or you can ask whatever questions you like and I’ll fill in any gaps that remain afterwards.” Brian had folded himself down to kneel on a collection of pillows. Jisung forced himself to look away from his horse half and meet his eyes.

“I think I’m too tired to make questions.”

Brian smiled at his clumsy wording. “Completely understandable. I’m sure you can tell us how you came to arrive at Camp Half-Blood some other time. For now, I’ll do my best to provide as simple an explanation as possible. Feel free to interrupt at any time if a question pops up. Chan, you can also interrupt with further explanations as you see fit.”

Brian then launched into a description of the Gods of Olympus, their frequent consorting with mortals, and the demigods that resulted from these instances. Upon learning that Jisung had next to no education about the Greek Gods, Brian then gave a brief overview of the main Olympians, culminating in Zeus, “your father, Jisung.”

Jisung blinked at him. “Zeus, my father,” Brian nodded, “the god?” Brian nodded again, eyes kind and crinkling.

“The ruler of Olympus, and one of the Big Three,” Chan added on. When Jisung turned to him with obvious confusion on his face, Chan elaborated, “the Big Three are considered the most powerful of the gods. There’s Zeus, your dad; Poseidon, my dad; and Hades, Changbin’s dad. You met Changbin earlier, briefly, but we can do a better introduction later. Anyways, the Big Three aren’t supposed to have kids ‘cause their power is kind of unmatched and so the power of any kids they had would be kind of unmatched. But they did, and here we are.” Chan gave him another smile, but this one didn’t quite reach his eyes. Jisung decided then and there that he didn’t especially like being a son of one of the Big Three.

“Children of the Big Three also tend to have heroic destinies laid out before them.” Brian’s addition didn’t improve Jisung’s view of the whole situation. “They’re more likely to receive quests, undergo trials, and be found by monsters.”

Jisung shrunk back into the couch at Brian’s last words. The image of the creature he had killed – and oh, god, if that wasn’t something he would have to process later – jumped to the front of his mind.

“A Giant,” Brian offered, sensing Jisung’s train of thought. “We thought they had been dealt with long ago. Evidently, we thought wrong.”

The look in Brian’s eyes was hard to read as he made eye contact with Chan. Jisung no longer wanted to be in this room right now. He couldn’t handle any more talk of gods or monsters. He couldn’t handle any more talk, period. His hearing was starting to subtly fade in and out the way it always did when he was on the verge of a panic attack. Jisung stood abruptly.

Before he could ask if there was a room he could lie down in or something, a green mist started to seep into the room through the open doorway. Chan, who had moved to stand as well, paused in a half-crouch at the edge of the couch. Brian watched with wide eyes as the mist continued to pour into the room. The sound of something heavy falling to the ground echoed above them. A few moments later, a large, white swan flew into the room and settled on a pile of cushions near the fireplace. Jisung, Chan, and Brian all remained frozen in place.

The swan seemed to toss its head, its glassy eyes staring at nothing in particular. Then, it opened its black beak, and a genderless voice echoed out into the room:

_Ocean, sky, and shade combine_

_With succor from the son of vine_

_Along with sons of spring and war_

_Sons of love and thieves what more_

_All eight will fight foe old while new_

_The day the earth is split in two_

The beak of the swan closed. It gathered itself slowly, and then spread its great wings and exited the room. The green mist swirled out after it.

Jisung slowly sank back onto the couch. The good news was his budding panic attack had been offset by the unforeseen interruption of the swan. The bad news was he was now edging towards a dissociative episode.

Chan was the first to break the silence, fully standing now. “That’s it, then! Jisung’s the eighth one. Brian, it’s _happening_.”

“Not yet,” Brian replied, voice somewhat faint. “Not until the earth is split.”

Chan was tugging at his hair and pacing short, half-aborted steps back and forth across the room. “Yeah, but since he got a prophecy, it’s gotta be happening soon, right? We have to tell the rest, we have to prepare, I need to–”

“What’s happening?” Jisung’s voice wasn’t loud, but the other two immediately turned to him as if he had shouted.

“Children of the Big Three tend to have heroic destinies laid out before them.” Brian repeated his words from earlier. The smile he offered Jisung was tired and ancient.

“Yeah. I got a prophecy my first day here, too. Changbin didn’t, but we figured he was tied up in mine, and we were right, and now he’s tied up in yours, too, which actually seems to be like a prequel of sorts to mine, which–” Chan cut himself off once he finally looked back down at the couch. Jisung wasn’t sure what he looked like at the moment, but it must not have been good as Chan immediately sat beside him and tucked him back under a protective arm. “I’m sorry for getting so worked up. I’ve kinda been waiting on this for a while. But don’t worry! You won’t have to handle any of this alone. Do you think you’d be up for meeting any of the others? It will make more sense, with them.”

Jisung could only shake his head no. He thought if he opened his mouth, he might sob.

“Chan, could you show him to his cabin? I think what he needs most right now is rest, and I have to make a few calls.” Brian’s face was grim as he stood, but it softened as he turned to Chan and Jisung. “Jisung, I promise that things will begin to make some more sense in the next couple days. A lot has happened in the past hour alone, and I can’t begin to imagine what happened to you in the many hours preceding this. However, I do know how thankful I am – how thankful we all are – that you made it, safe, to us.” He trotted over to Jisung and ran a comforting hand through his hair. “For now, all you need worry about is resting.” With one last smile at the two of them, Brian walked out of the room.

“You good to stand, Jisung?” Chan asked. When Jisung nodded, he helped the other boy to his feet. He continued to talk as they made their way out of the house. “Alright, we can head to the cabins then. I’ll try to point out as much as I can, but we can do a better tour later, once you’re up for it. For now, like Brian said, you just focus on resting up.”

When they reached the cabins, Chan led Jisung to three large cabins located at the head of the rest. “Poseidon, Hera, and Zeus, although Hera’s is mostly just to be respectful. She’s the goddess of marriage and fidelity and all that, so no demigod bastards.” Chan was only half-smiling as he spoke. “The big fancy one is yours.”

The cabin Chan indicated was indeed big and fancy. Had Jisung been in a better state of mind, he might have also thought it looked rather lonely. But Jisung was past the point of exhaustion, and all he could focus on was the promise of a bed inside onto which he could collapse.

“I’ll make sure no one bugs you until you’re ready, and I’ll be right next door if you need me. Sleep well, Jisung.” Chan actually tucked him into bed. Jisung might have been embarrassed if he wasn’t – you know – completely mentally, physically, and emotionally drained. He fell asleep within a minute of his head finding the pillow. His sleep was blessedly dreamless.

When he woke, the sun was just beginning to rise. He could see a pale rose sky through the high windows in his cabin, though no true sunlight had yet to enter the space. Jisung thought he would have been confused. He was waking up in an unfamiliar place, after all, and had been through one hell of a journey to reach it. Yet, Jisung had been waking up in unfamiliar places for the last couple of days, and even then, he had not found himself disoriented.

 _Maybe it’s a demigod thing,_ he thought, and then was surprised at himself for so readily accepting that, too. How was one supposed to act when they found out their father was ruler of all Greek gods? Probably not like this, but here was Jisung, regardless.

“I made it, Mom,” Jisung whispered to the golden-tinged dust motes floating above his head. The room around him was silent. He lay still for another few moments, before wiping the wetness from his eyes and sitting up. He was still in the same school uniform he had been wearing for days, now. He hadn’t had time to wash it, or himself for that matter, and so he was sure he must smell something awful. Still, Chan had showed no hesitation about pressing close to his side yesterday.

The thought of Chan prompted Jisung to fully leave his bed. Hopefully the other boy could direct him to a shower, and maybe even loan him some cleaner clothes. Jisung was thin and had grown thinner over the last five days. He could probably fit a child’s size, at this point.

His stomach chose that moment to let out a low gurgle, and Jisung realized he hadn’t eaten anything yesterday besides a singular protein bar for breakfast and that odd cube Chan had given him. _Shower, then food_ , Jisung decided. After, he would hopefully feel like enough of a human being to face the other boys Chan had wanted to introduce him to yesterday.

Before stepping foot outside his cabin, Jisung climbed up on one of the beds to peek through the windows. There was no one outside that he could see; the coast was clear. He quickly slipped out the door and crossed the dozen or so feet of green space to the cabin Chan had previously pointed out as his. It was pale blue, shimmering, and – in Jisung’s opinion – much nicer than his own cabin. It looked lived in, for a start. There were various towels and shirts and what looked like a half-woven rug strewn across the front porch. The door of the cabin had a wooden sign with “CHAN” carved into it, followed by a smiley face. There was a blue welcome rug outside the door. Jisung hadn’t known Chan for more than a day, but he already knew that this cabin’s décor fit him incredibly well.

With only the slightest bit of hesitation, Jisung knocked on the cabin door. There was no response. He knocked a little harder. Still nothing. Swallowing down any misgivings, Jisung slowly opened the door.

There, stretched out, gently snoring, and all but dead to the world, lay Chan. Though there were other beds in the cabin, his was the only one occupied. Jisung remembered Chan saying something about how the Big Three gods weren’t supposed to have children, and so it made sense that Chan’s cabin was empty. Jisung was glad his cabin was empty, too; at least for the moment. He’d probably get lonely once he got more comfortable at Camp Half-Blood, but for now, Jisung was thankful for a place in which he could break down in private.

“Um, Chan?” Jisung started, inching further into the cabin. Chan remained knocked out.

“Chan?” Jisung tried again, this time with a slight poke to the other’s shoulder. Still no response. Jisung poked him again, a little harder this time, and surprised himself when a short static shock jumped from the tip of his finger to connect with the skin of Chan’s shoulder. At that, Chan heaved himself up with a shout, an arc of water leaping out from the fountain at the back of the cabin to soak Jisung straight through his school uniform. Jisung could only stare at him with wide eyes, dripping saltwater onto the cabin floor.

“Oh my gods, Jisung, I’m so sorry, I’m such a heavy sleep, I should have warned you, and the thing with the water, gosh, I really am sorry.” Chan’s hands were fluttering all about as apologies spilled from his mouth.

“It’s okay.” Jisung was a little in awe of how Chan had apparently forced the water to his will. _A son of Poseidon_ , the little voice in his mind said. “I, uh, was actually going to ask you where the showers were. And if you had some clothes I could borrow? I’ve, uh, been wearing my uniform for a while.”

“Oh! Of course. I have so many camp shirts, you can honestly just take a couple to keep. I actually have some from when I was younger that should fit you, and I can lend you some basketball shorts as well.” As he spoke, Chan untangled himself from his sheets and began pulling articles of clothing out of various dresser drawers. “As for showering, you can borrow my soap and stuff, and a towel. We can get you some actual supplies of your own later today; the camp’s got a pretty good selection in storage for demigods like you who weren’t able to bring much to camp with them.”

Jisung wondered just how many demigods were chased from their homes by monsters. How many demigods ended up with one dead parent?

He quickly pushed that thought to the back of his mind. _Later_ , when he was alone. For now, Chan was holding out a bundle of clothing and shower supplies with an encouraging look on his face. Jisung accepted with a small “thanks,” then followed the other to the communal bathrooms.

“I’m gonna head back to my cabin and change, but I’ll meet you out here when you’re done, okay? Then we can head to breakfast! And, if you’re feeling up for it, I’d love to introduce you to the others; they were bugging me about meeting you all through yesterday evening. Take your time though, and I’ll see you in a bit.” Chan left him with a small wave.

Someone must have been smiling down at Jisung, because the bathrooms were completely empty. He showered quickly, fearing the arrival of another person, and slipped into Chan’s hand-me-downs. They were a little big, as expected, but they were clean and soft and smelled of the sea. Jisung threw his school uniform away as he left the bathroom; those items of clothing held memories he didn’t want to keep.

As promised, Chan was waiting for him outside. He was yet again dressed in a garish orange tee shirt with “Camp Half-Blood” in stark black letters on its front. “Ready for food?” Jisung nodded in what he hoped wasn’t a blatantly overeager manner. “Follow me, then! The dining areas are outside, but we never get any bad weather here, so we never have to worry about eating in the rain!”

Chan continued to provide Jisung with tidbits and trivia about Camp Half-Blood on the short walk to the dining area. Jisung was more than happy to let the other talk. The camp was beginning to wake up a bit, and he was somewhat preoccupied with trying to avoid the attention of literally everyone but Chan.

After they had gotten their plates and scraped a bit off into the fire as an offering to the gods – “They don’t really eat this stuff, but they like the smell,” Chan shrugged – Chan led Jisung over to an area where two marble tables had been pushed together.

“Usually, you’re supposed to eat with your cabin, but I was the only one in my cabin and that was a bit lonely so, once they arrived, the others started eating with me. When the group got big enough, we pushed the tables together. The others will begin showing up soon, but if you’re not ready to meet them, I can tell them to eat at their cabin tables for today.”

“No, it’s fine.” The very last thing Jisung wanted was to disturb the regular schedules of a bunch of people he did not know. So, he swallowed down his lingering nerves with a couple bites of rice and waited for the rest to arrive.

The first to show up was the soft-featured boy who had greeted Jisung yesterday. His demeanor was vastly subdued this morning. Jisung wasn’t even sure if his eyes were open as he stumbled straight to the coffee machine, poured out a mouthful into the offering fire, and downed the rest. A few moments later, the boy seemed to shake himself awake, and noticed Jisung’s presence. The boy’s entire face lit up.

“You’re here for _brekkie_!” His last word was not Korean, that was for sure.

“ _Brek-kie_?” Jisung parroted. The other boy’s accent was similar to Chan’s, though Jisung couldn’t quite place where it was from.

“He means _breakfast_. Or, uh, breakfast. Felix, introduce yourself maybe?”

“Oh! Right! Hi, my name’s Lee Felix! I’m a son of Persephone – the only son of Persephone, actually – and a fun fact about me is that my body forces me up at dawn every single day despite the fact that I am most definitely not a morning person. Nice to meet you!” Felix gave Jisung a near-blinding smile.

“I’m Han Jisung. I’m a son of Zeus?”

“Are you?” Felix teased lightly.

Jisung gave him a hesitant smile back. “So they say.”

“Well, nice to meet you Jisung, son of Zeus, so they say! Now, if you’ll excuse me, I’m about to go grab all the eggs I can fit on a plate and like three more cups of coffee. _Yeet_!”

Once Felix was gone, Jisung turned to Chan. “Did he really just…?”

Chan sighed a long-suffering sigh. “It’s Felix,” he said by way of explanation. Jisung giggled softly. This wasn’t so bad! If they kept coming in one-by-one like this, he could probably handle meeting them all. There had been, what, six boys other than Chan yesterday? He could meet six boys.

While he was pumping himself up, Felix returned with a plate piled high with eggs and rice. He was also somehow managing to hold two cups of coffee in his other hand. “ _Brekkie time_!” He trilled in English, settling himself into a seat opposite Jisung and Chan.

“Is _brekkie_ American slang, or…?” Jisung hazarded a guess.

“Australian; Felix and I are both originally from there.” Chan replied in lieu of Felix, who was currently stuffing his face. Felix gave an odd gesture in response: his thumb and pinky remained extended, while the rest of his fingers were tucked up against his palm. Chan returned the gesture, giving his hand a little shake. “And this is a _shaka_ ; I guess it’s kind of an _Aussie_ greeting thing?” Jisung copied the gesture, giving his hand a little shake as Chan did.

Swallowing down another massive bite, Felix gave him a rather garbled, “ _there you go,_ _mate_!” Jisung’s English was pretty decent from his years spent in Malaysia, but he wasn’t entirely sure what “ _mate_ ” was supposed to mean.

“Performed like a true _Aussie_!” Chan exclaimed.

“Did I hear someone say _Aussie_?” A shout came from behind Jisung. The sudden noise caused Jisung to jump in his seat, and he hurriedly turned around to catch sight of the tall, elegant boy who had also tried to welcome him yesterday.

Said boy plopped himself down into the seat next to Felix after grabbing an apple. His eyes lit up when he caught sight of Jisung. “The new kid! Hi! Welcome to Camp Half-Blood! Dude, the way you totally obliterated that Giant yesterday was so cool! I wish I could do anything half as useful…” When the boy noticed Chan’s raised eyebrow, he hurriedly tacked on, “Oh! Right, my name’s Hwang Hyunjin, son of Aphrodite, which means I’m basically useless in combat situations but whatever.”

Jisung sensed this was somewhat of a sore topic for him and opted to ignore it altogether, introducing himself as “Han Jisung, son of Zeus.”

“So they say!” Felix got out around yet another mouthful of egg and rice.

“Felix, gross!” Hyunjin complained, but he was laughing, and Jisung felt himself relax a bit more. “But Jisung, it’s nice to meet you! I know you’ll enjoy it at Camp Half-Blood, even if the way you got here wasn’t so great. I promise.” Hyunjin gave him a crooked smile, which straightened into a full grin when Jisung hesitantly returned it.

 _Two of six down!_ Jisung was doing great so far. He usually sucked at meeting new people and would be able to get out a handful of words, max, but there was something about the camp, or the people, which relaxed Jisung’s walls. He found himself believing Hyunjin’s promise, and what’s more, even looking forward to the rest of the boys showing up.

When two showed up at once, Jisung’s resolve wavered somewhat. Then one of the pair flashed Jisung a bright, brace-filled smile the moment he caught sight of the extra head at the table, and Jisung felt himself relax once more.

“Hi! I’m Yang Jeongin, son of Hermes! Welcome to Camp Half-Blood! I’ve only been here a couple weeks myself, but if you have any questions or need directions or anything, I’ll do my best to help!” The boy’s every sentence was an exclamation. Jisung was half in awe, half enamored of his earnest attitude.

The other of the pair gave him an equally warm smile. “I’m Kim Seungmin, son of Athena, but I’m rooming with this one,” he gave Jeongin a small nudge with his shoulder, “and the rest of the Hermes kids until she sees fit to claim me. I’ve been here since the start of the summer, but apparently nothing I’ve done so far has been ‘worthy’ of her claim.” Seungmin dropped into a seat with an extended sigh and a long eyeroll.

“Geez, Seungminnie; have you been studying up on Hyunjin’s book of dramatics?” Felix snickered, laughing harder at Hyunjin’s exasperated “hey!” Seungmin simply gave him a flat stare.

Chan placed a comforting hand over Seungmin’s. “Don’t worry, Seungmin! I’m sure Athena knows just how much potential you have and is just waiting for the right moment when it really shines through.”

Jeongin’s voice pulled Jisung’s attention away from the varied dramatics unfolding before him. “Do you mind if I sit here?” Jeongin gestured at the open seat beside Jisung.

“Oh! No, go right ahead. And I’m Han Jisung, son of Zeus. Maybe I’ll actually get used to saying that some day…” Though he had muttered the last part, Jeongin and Chan both heard him. The former offered him another bright smile, while the latter clasped a comforting hand on his shoulder.

“Nice to meet you, Jisung!” Jeongin said.

“Nice to meet you, Jisung,” Seungmin echoed, a smile slipping over his face once more. Jisung offered them a smile of his own, even daring to show his teeth this time. Not a half second later, the moment was shattered by the arrival of another boy.

He joined the table without any preamble, plopping down into the seat next to Chan with a loud “oh my gods, look at his little gummy smile! Chan, he’s so cute, please tell me we’re adopting him. Oh, right, my name is Lee Minho. Son of Dionysus, I’m afraid.”

Chan laughed, half exacerbated, half fond. “C’mon Minho, don’t scare him off. But, yes, he’s our eighth member. Even got a prophecy of his own to confirm it.”

“There’s another prophecy?” Seungmin eagerly leaned forward, nearly knocking over a glass of orange juice.

“Yes, Seungmin, there’s another prophecy.”

“Why didn’t you tell me?”

“Because I wanted to make sure someone,” Chan raised an eyebrow at Seungmin, “didn’t stay up for another whole week trying to decode it.”

Seungmin frowned, leaning back in his seat with a huff. “It was only three days…” Chan’s eyebrow climbed higher. Seungmin looked away, a bit cowed.

“We can talk about it once the last of us shows up.” Chan addressed the table at large.

“Yes, Papa.” Minho trilled. Hyunjin snorted into his coffee, then proceeded to complain about his burnt nose as Felix just laughed and Seungmin and Jeongin both offered tissues, the former half-heartedly and the later nearly crawling over the table in his effort to assist.

“Guys, please, can you try to contain yourselves at least until Changbin shows up?” Chan’s voice was pained, but his eyes were affectionate. Jisung found himself smiling at the group’s antics. Yeah, he could see himself fitting in here just fine.

As if on cue, the last of the group trudged up a moment later. He was wearing a black hoodie which Jisung vaguely recognized from yesterday, though he had his hood down this morning and was sporting a mass of truly spectacular bedhead.

“Yoh! Changbin!” Felix greeted, prompting a round of “yoh” to echo among the table. Even Chan offered up the greeting with a teasing smile on his face.

Changbin groaned as he collapsed into a seat. “Guys, seriously? Can we not do this for one morning, maybe? Maybe just one morning?” He then caught sight of Jisung. “Oh, the Zeus kid. Jisung, right? You had quite the entrance yesterday. How are you holding up?”

“Oh, yeah, I’m Jisung; Han Jisung. Um, son of Zeus, though you already said that. And I think I’m holding up pretty well? I mean, I’m not sure if I’m fully processing all of this,” Jisung swept a hand out in front of him, “but, I mean, I’m not hurt or anything, so that’s good.”

“I’m also still processing everything, to be honest!” Jeongin chimed in.

“Same,” Minho added.

“Minho, you’ve been here for almost four years,” Chan said.

“Same,” Minho repeated, raising one eyebrow at Chan. Jisung let out the faintest of laughs, and Minho smiled a self-satisfied grin.

“Oh right! I guess I should properly introduce myself, huh? You already know the Changbin part, but my full name’s Seo Changbin, son of Hades, and also son of my mom, who will no doubt want to cook you some extravagant meal as soon as she finds out you exist.”

“Yeah, she’s done it for all of us, and her food is incredible!” Hyunjin’s eyes were shining as he spoke. “I mean, we all eat dinner at Changbin’s house pretty regularly. It’s not too far from camp, so Brian allows it. Not that he could really stand against the combined forces of Changbin and Chan’s moms.”

Jisung turned to Chan. “Your mom lives in Seoul? I thought you were from Australia?”

Chan rubbed a hand along the back of his neck. “Uh, I am, but my mom moved to Seoul from Australia, what, nearly two years ago at this point?” Chan looked to Changbin for confirmation, who nodded. “Yeah, when Changbin arrived at camp and his mom found out there was another Big Three kid, she kinda invited my mom over from Australia to live with her, so she could be closer to me.”

“My mom’s just that kind of person.” Changbin shrugged, but his smile was incredibly fond.

“We’re all making bets on when they finally go full-lesbian.” Felix grinned while the tips of Chan and Changbin’s ears turned red.

“Oh, were that I a lesbian,” Minho sighed, draping himself across the table. “Maybe then I could have Artemis as my patron goddess instead of my lame dad.”

“Don’t mind him; he loves Dionysus.” Changbin rolled his eyes at Minho’s dramatics while the rest of the table laughed. Jisung found himself chuckling with the others, and the sensation was warm and nice. “Anyways, I’m sure my mom would love to meet your mom, too! Then all three of them can talk shit about the Big Three.”

Jisung’s smile instantly dropped. “She, um, she–” he tried, his throat clenching around the next word.

The mood at the table instantly grew somber. “Oh, hey, you don’t have to talk about it if you don’t want to, I’m sorry for bringing it up.” Changbin’s voice was soft.

“Whatever you choose to share is on your terms, alright?” Chan’s voice was equally soft, and his hand was back on Jisung’s shoulder. Jisung found himself leaning slightly into that comfort as he concentrated all his willpower on not crying in front of these seven near strangers. The rest of the boys murmured assenting statements following Chan’s words. Jisung could barely call them acquaintances, but he was already so grateful for them.

“Um, maybe later,” he finally managed to get out after another moment of staring resolutely at the table’s smooth surface. “For now, can we do a camp tour or something? I barely know where the cabins and bathrooms are, and I’d really like to not get lost.”

“Oh, don’t worry about that. Felix still gets lost just going to archery practice, and he’s been here like five years.” Seungmin’s light-hearted ribbing easily broke through the quiet mood.

“Hey, maybe I’m _trying_ to not end up at archery practice, ever think of that?” Felix protested. Just like that, Jisung found himself smiling again. Chan’s hand was still on his shoulder, a silent invitation to talk whenever he needed. For now, Jisung was content to follow along behind the others as they dragged him this way and that, acquainting him with the camp that was to become his home.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Haha whoopsies made it a bit sad at the end, huh? But hopeful! Healing's a process, y'all, and Jisung's now got seven others to help him along that journey (and he can help them in turn). I'm thinking that the next chapter will probably be a series of vignettes/moments spanning the POVs of all eight boys throughout various moments in camp 'cause I want to play around with varying POVs again!
> 
> Also here's some stuff to clarify timing/ages cause it might be a bit confusing after having jumped around so much time-wise!:  
> Current timing: end of July  
> Ages: Chan 16; Minho 15; Changbin nearly 15; Hyunjin 14; Jisung near 14; Felix near 14; Seungmin near 14; Jeongin 13
> 
> As always, continue to take care of yourselves! Wash your hands, call a friend, do something that makes you happy. If any of y'all are into poetry, there's a beautiful one called "At Last the New Arriving" by Gabrielle Calvocoressi that just makes me feel warm and loved and okay, so maybe it'll bring a little bit of that into your lives as well. Thank you all so much for continuing to read, and see you next week! <3


	7. Snapshots

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Happy Easter, happy belated Passover, and happy Sunday to everyone! We are almost to 500 hits and that is incredible? Thank you all so much??? <3 <3 <3
> 
> As promised, this chapter is a bunch of little scenes, each featuring a different member of the Quest Squad (trademark Hyunjin)! Hopefully they give a better insight into each of the boys' thoughts and feelings in the current time of this story. Enjoy!

Persephone came to visit two days after Jisung's arrival at Camp Half-Blood. Felix knew better than to ask her to postpone her visit longer than two days. He had asked her once, when she visited after Hyunjin's arrival, if she could maybe wait a few more days next time for whoever showed up next to settle in to camp a bit more fully. She had not been pleased with the suggestion. "If these are the people who are to fight alongside you some day," she had said, "then it is my right as your mother to know who they are." In that moment, Felix had truly felt her godhood. He did not ask about delaying her visit again. So, almost exactly 48 hours after Jisung's battle with the Giant, Persephone arrived at Camp Half-Blood.

She had the courtesy to show up at the gates, rather than appear suddenly in the middle of the bonfire as Dionysus was known to do. Felix, like always, knew she was coming before she had even arrived, and was waiting by the gates for her. The moment she appeared, she swept him up into a warm hug, peppering kisses all over his head and leaving small wildflowers wherever her lips touched. Felix laughed through it all, pressing his head into her shoulder and smiling wide.

“Now, where's my other son?” she said.

Felix's smile grew wider still. “Changbin's showing Jisung - Jisung's the one who just arrived - the training grounds. Last I saw, Jisung was failing miserably at using a sword, but I'm sure he'll get better with practice!”

“Or he'll become an archer like you.” Persephone brushed Felix's hair behind his ears, adding a small purple flower with the gesture. “Well, lead the way!”

Felix grabbed his mother's hand, and together they started to walk towards the training grounds. There were still a few awe-struck looks as Persephone passed, but by now most of the campers had grown used to Persephone's presence in the camp. Jeongin still startled every time he saw her, but Jeongin was also still very new to the whole gods and goddesses thing in general. Felix was really looking forward to Jisung's reaction to meeting his mother.

Jisung did not disappoint. The moment he set eyes on Persephone, his sword instantly fell from his hands and he scrambled back a few steps. His eyes were huge and his mouth was round and Changbin very nearly clubbed him with a practice axe. Felix began to giggle, and Persephone hid an amused smile behind her hand.

When Changbin turned to see what Jisung was staring so fervently at, he broke into a wide smile. “Persephone!”

Persephone had been trying for years to get Changbin to call her “Mom,” or at least “Step-Mom.” It was a losing battle. Still, she opened her arms willingly and pulled Changbin into a tight hug, peppering little floral kisses along his crown.

“How’s my second best boy?” she asked.

“Doing well! Trying to get the new kid at least semi-decent at defending himself.” Changbin said, then whispered the last part, “so far, it’s a losing battle.”

“I’m sure he’ll get there some day.” Persephone said.

“Hey Jisung!” Felix called, “come meet my mom!”

Jisung picked his way over to the trio with hesitant steps. He stopped a good six paces from them and lowered into an awkward half-bow. “Uh, hello, goddess? Um, my name is Han Jisung, son of Zeus. It’s, um, an honor to meet you.”

Persephone had to hide another amused smile behind her hand, before she turned back to the bowing boy. She crossed the short distance between them and carefully drew him into a hug.

“Nice to meet you, Han Jisung,” she murmured into his hair. “Please, address me simply as Persephone. Any friend of my son is welcome to speak freely with me.”

When she drew back from hugging Jisung, Felix was surprised to see what looked like tears glinting in the other boy’s eyes. Jisung quickly blinked a couple times, and the glint dissipated. Still, Felix frowned lightly to himself. The conversation from yesterday – specifically Jisung’s response to Changbin’s invitation regarding Jisung’s mother – was drawn to the forefront of Felix’s mind.

 _Later_ , he decided. Jisung was already adjusting to so much. As he watched the other boy cautiously interact with his mother and step-brother, Felix decided he’d give Jisung as much time as he needed to open up. When he was ready, Felix would be there.

…

Seungmin had spent three days with little to no sleep at the start of the summer while he worked on decoding Chan’s prophecy, and now there was another prophecy ripe for the decoding. You could never _actually_ decode a prophecy, and at the start of the summer Brian had warned him that to try would likely end poorly. “You are tempting Fate themselves,” Brian had said. Still. Seungmin had needed to try, at least. Besides, the damn thing hadn’t left his head.

“Creeping mist” had followed him to the breakfast table. “Final gate” ran through his head every time he worked a loom. He was met with “clashing sun” at the battle grounds, and at every sunset had reminded him of “bring down sky.” He heard “heavenly voices” every time someone spoke, and he had not been able to look at anything yellow without thinking of a “loss of gold.” So, really, it had been as much the prophecy taunting him to decode it as it was him actively working on figuring out the rhyme’s true meaning.

When Chan had found him that third day, his eyes bloodshot and his bags deep enough to hold a few grains of rice, the older boy had forced him to take a sip of some child of Hypnos’ latest sleeping draft. Seungmin had then passed out for nearly 24 hours, and had promised Chan upon waking that he would never try something like that again.

Then Jisung got his prophecy, and Seungmin’s brain once more fixated on the rhyming promise of what was to come.

The beginning two-thirds of the prophecy were extremely straightforward, in Seungmin’s opinion. Each noun related to the domain of one of the gods or goddesses, and each of those in turn signified one member of Chan’s questing group. Ocean, sky, and shade were Chan, Jisung, and Changbin, respectively. The son of vine was Minho, spring and war were Felix and himself, love and thieves were Hyunjin and Jeongin. It seemed almost too simple, until the last third hit. Seungmin spent a good day puzzling over “foe old while new,” and what it might mean for the earth to “split in two.”

An old but new foe could be literally any Greek monster. Or, perhaps, it was an adversary from one of their pasts. Hyunjin’s father? That seemed too trivial for something as big as a prophecy. And then there was the matter of the earth splitting. An earthquake seemed like the most obvious answer, but Seungmin felt there was more to it than that. Maybe it was talking about “earth” in a smaller sense? Like, if someone were to draw a line in the sand, that would constitute splitting the earth in two. There were too many variables; Seungmin couldn’t be sure what was the right move to make, how best to plan for what was to come.

Minho found him frantically scribbling near-illegible thoughts into one of his many notebooks at 11:37 pm the same day Jisung had finally relayed his own prophecy to the group.

“If you’re not careful, Chan’ll end up drugging you again.” Minho’s words startled Seungmin, who drew a dark line of ink across the page.

Seungmin turned to Minho with a huff. “Chan won’t have to know. There’s only two unknowns this time, much simpler than before, and more concrete imagery…” He returned to his notes, eyes scanning over what he had previously written as his voice trailed off.

Minho snorted, plucking the notebook out from Seungmin’s hands and ignoring the other’s indignant squawk. “Chan’ll find out, you know he will. Sure, he’s a bit distracted with helping Jisung adjust to camp and all that, but you know he has a sixth sense for the rest of us. He’ll sense that you’re overworking yourself, and he’ll talk to that Hypnos kid again, and you’ll lose out on another 24 hours.”

“Minho, I have to do this.”

“You don’t have to do anything except eat, breath, sleep, and excrete. Emphasis on sleep.”

“No, Minho.” Seungmin turned around, so that he was fully facing the other. “You don’t understand. I _have_ to do this. Do you think I wanted to be up for nearly 72 hours when I first heard Chan’s prophecy? I’m not stupid; I know that I would’ve thought much clearer with a good night’s sleep. But my brain wouldn’t let me; not until I’d made some sort of progress in figuring out what this quest might be. It wasn’t that I _would_ not sleep, but that I _could_ not.”

Minho’s eyes were round as he processed Seungmin’s words. Seungmin himself was panting slightly. He continued to hold Minho’s gaze.

“So you’re saying you won’t be able to sleep until you make some sort of headway into Jisung’s prophecy?”

“Not unless forced, no.” Seungmin slumped against the back of his chair, closing his eyes briefly. He could tell it was going to be a long night. It had already been such a terribly long evening.

“Well then, why don’t you ask for help?”

Seungmin’s eyes shot open. “What?”

“Why don’t you ask for help?” Minho repeated. “If this thing is truly outside of your control, don’t you think any one of us would be more than willing to work with you towards figuring it out a bit better? Hell, I bet even Jisung would fall over his own feet to try to help you out, and he’s been here, like, two days.”

“Ask for help?” Seungmin repeated slowly.

Minho rolled his eyes, but he was smiling. “Yeah, dummy. Ask for help. You know, from your friends? Damn, for an Athena kid, you sure can be thick sometimes.”

“Shut it, Grape Lord,” Seungmin replied on instinct. Minho’s smile only grew, and Seungmin found himself smiling in response.

“C’mon, I think the rest are still all at the bonfire. Curfew isn’t until midnight, though I’m sure Chan would be willing to stretch it a bit. Who knows, another viewpoint might crack something wide open for you.”

“Alright.” Seungmin gathered up his notes and grabbed a few of the books he had been using for research before heading out to the bonfire. He had thought that any pursuit of knowledge must be a solitary trial. Maybe, he had thought wrong.

…

Chan had been half-expecting Jisung to pay a late-night visit to his cabin for the past three days, so when Jisung did show up, Chan was prepared. Chan himself often had difficulty falling asleep. On those nights, he would usually head down to the lake and do a quick swim, or else sink to the bottom and let the fishes float through his hair and nibble at his fingers. Being a son of Poseidon, water was as air for him. (That is to say, he could breathe underwater and neither he nor his clothes got wet unless he wanted it.) Following this, he was usually able to get at least a couple hours of rest. However, Chan had kept to his cabin the past few nights, waiting on Jisung.

Chan did this every time a new camper arrived. He’d keep to his cabin for their first couple days at camp. Without fail, each and every new arrival would show up at his doorstep. Chan would hear them all out, offer advice or empathy or simply a listening ear, and send them back to bed for some much improved sleep. In a few special cases, Chan would tuck them in to one of the spare beds in his cabin. He had done so for Felix, alone in a new environment and as of then without a cabin to call his own. He had done so for Minho, who had surprised the both of them with his request to stay a little longer, if that was alright, it’s just that he’s worried about his mother, and he doesn’t have good dreams in new places, and – _it’s alright, you can stay_. He had done so for Hyunjin, who was still reeling from his abrupt abandonment by his father. He had done so for Changbin, who had been frightened by the skulls scattered throughout the Hades cabin and was still seeing flame-throated chimeras in every dark corner (and who now spent most nights in Chan’s cabin, or Felix’s cabin, or any of the others). He had done so for Seungmin, who had shown up half-embarrassed, half-eager to learn every little tidbit about Camp Half-Blood that Chan could dredge up from the depths of his memory. He had done so for Jeongin, who was simply homesick in a new environment, no matter how much he had wanted it. Now, as Jisung nervously shifted his weight from foot to foot, his shoulders hunched and his eyes locked on the floor, Chan knew he would yet again have a guest in his cabin through the night.

Chan offered Jisung his best smile and stepped aside in an offer for the other boy to enter his cabin.

“Thanks,” Jisung mumbled as he passed, still studying the floor as he lightly perched on one of the unused beds. Chan sat down next to him, arm raised in invitation, and Jisung immediately burrowed into his side.

“D’you wanna talk? It can be about what’s kept you up, or anything else. Or we can just chill for a bit.” Jisung stayed silent, merely shuffling himself further into Chan’s side. Chan smiled down at him and started to run careful fingers through his hair.

Time stretched on, minutes indistinguishable from hours in the cabin that smelled of the sea. The quiet trickle of the fountain in the corner provided a soothing white noise backdrop. Eventually, the tension drained from Jisung’s hunched shoulders.

“Um, Chan?” he started, his voice nearly inaudible. Chan simply hummed in response. “Were you… um. Were you scared? When you came to camp?”

Chan took a moment to think about the question. It had been so long since he first set eyes on Camp Half-Blood. He hadn’t yet turned ten! But he’d been presented with monsters and mythology and a burden far too heavy for a child, nonetheless.

“Yeah,” he answered. “Yeah, I was scared. Terrified, actually.” He chuckled lightly to himself.

Jisung shifted beside him, straightening so that he could finally meet Chan’s eyes. “What’d you do about it?”

“I made friends.” Before Jisung could finish scrunching up his face in distaste, Chan continued, “I mean it! For the first six months or so, I barnacled on to Brian’s side. I arrived in fall, so there was really no one else regularly at camp but me and him. I spent a lot of time at the lake, befriended the Naiads, swam a bunch. Read a lot. I started with the kid’s books on mythology, and then once I finished those, I worked my way through the grown-up books. I think I maybe understood 30% of what they were saying? But they were good distractions. I needed a distraction. Then, once the summer arrived and brought back the campers, I made friends, and they kept me distracted.”

Jisung shifted again, his face impatient as he stared at the seafoam-colored quilt on the bed. “But, like, how’d you _deal_ with the fear?”

“You’re not going to like this answer, but it simply got easier to deal with in time.” Jisung’s face scrunched up again, and Chan laughed, running a hand through the other’s messy fringe. “It’s true! A year and a bit after that first summer at camp, Persephone came strolling through the gates with Felix plastered to her side. Gods he was cute back then – even littler hands, if you can believe it!” This drew a snort out of Jisung, and Chan grinned in triumph. “But I’m serious about the time stuff. It might be a kind of cop-out answer, but it’s true. Things will get a little easier, day by day. It might seem imperceptible at first, but then a year will go by, and you’ll look back and see acres of progress.”

Jisung tucked himself back into Chan’s side. “How’d you get so wise.” Chan could tell the question was rhetorical, and so he simply laughed, leaning back into the smaller boy.

“How about you spend the night? I’ve got lots of extra beds, and gods know I crashed on the couch in the Big House often enough my first couple months here.”

“I’d like that.” Jisung’s voice wasn’t nearly as small as it had been when he first arrived, and Chan counted that as a personal victory. He slowly eased himself up from the bed, tucking Jisung in before the other could begin to get embarrassed about the situation, and got comfortable in his own bed.

“Goodnight, Jisung. Sleep well.”

“Goodnight, Chan. And, uh, thanks. For everything.”

The gurgle of the fountain soothed their journey into unconsciousness. Both boys slept well that night, for the first time in a while.

…

Jeongin really wanted to have his weapon picked out by the time he had spent a month at camp. He’d been working his way through them steadily, but his self-imposed deadline was quickly drawing near, and he was starting to get a bit despondent.

He’d started with the sword, and Minho had walked him through a few basic training exercises before deeming him a lost cause. Jeongin was maybe a little disheartened, before he learned that this was Minho’s way of trying to protect him. Jeongin couldn’t swing his sword fast enough block any of Minho’s attacks; he was the youngest of Chan’s Quest Squad (trademark Hyunjin) and had yet to really grow into his body. Being too slow in an actual battle would get him killed, not just lightly tapped on the shoulder by Minho’s wooden sword. So, he moved on.

His next attempt was with the spear. Chan and Seungmin were infinitely patient with him. Chan himself used a trident, like his father, but recommended Jeongin start with a simple spear, such as Seungmin used. Though the spear was less heavy than the sword, Jeongin found it too unwieldy to maneuver appropriately with his gangly limbs. By the time Jeongin had managed to wrangle the weapon into an attack stance, Seungmin had already lightly tapped the head of his practice spear against Jeongin’s armor-covered stomach. The next six attempts played out in a similar pattern. That’s fine, there were plenty more weapons to try. Jeongin was determined to find the one right for him.

He next turned to bows, which Hyunjin and Felix were more than happy to instruct him in. He was actually pretty decent with bows. He had what Hyunjin termed “incredible aim,” which Felix then elaborated as “talented, brilliant, incredible, amazing, show stopping” before Hyunjin cut him off with a well-placed arrow just over his head. The only problem was, it took him ages to notch an arrow. Hyunjin and Felix could each pull arrows from their quiver, nock them, and fire in a matter of seconds. For Jeongin, the process was more like a minute, which was a minute he would not have in a real battle. Hyunjin and Felix encouraged him to keep practicing, and he would! He just wanted to find something he could wield right now, just in case.

He had many hesitations about trying out an axe. Mainly, axes were much heavier than swords, and more unwieldy than spears given their lopsided centers of balance. But Changbin suggested he try a hatchet, first. “Your aim was _incredible_ , from what I hear,” he had said with a grin.

“If you do the full Felix thing, I’m disowning you.” Jeongin had replied.

“Yah! Brat! I’m older than you.” Jeongin simply had to smile at Changbin with a mouth full of sparkling metal for the older to relent. “Just, do you want to try out a hatchet or not?”

“Yes please!”

Jeongin was surprisingly adept with hatchets. He could hit the target 9 times out of 10, and he could draw a hatchet much quicker than he could nock an arrow. Still, after his first round of throwing the tiny axes, Changbin had been frowning.

“I think it went pretty well!” Jeongin said, trying to smooth over his defensiveness with an extra bit of chipper attitude.

“It did…” Changbin trailed off, still frowning. “It’s just, something’s still not right. I dunno. We can keep practicing for sure, and maybe it’ll come to me.”

So they practiced. Jeongin kept throwing hatchets, and he kept firing arrows, and his form got better and better. But it still wasn’t perfect. More than that, Jeongin didn’t feel natural when using a bow or hatchet. He still felt like he was performing, or else trying to imitate one of the older boys. None of the weapons he’d tried so far fit him.

Then Jisung came along, and he somehow managed to be worse than Jeongin at literally every weapon. Even the axe, which Jeongin had swung once for fun and had never swung again after nearly dislocating his shoulder.

Jeongin found him on the training grounds one afternoon, staring sullenly at the weapons rack.

“Don’t you need Chan or Changbin with you to spar?” Jeongin said in lieu of greeting.

Jisung jumped, then yelped, then turned to Jeongin with wide eyes. “What? Jeongin?”

“Hi!” Jeongin gave him a little wave and a brace-filled smile. “I said, don’t you need Chan or Changbin to spar?”

“Oh! Oh, I’m not trying to spar. I just… Demigods are supposed to be good at fighting, right? Then how come every single weapon I try is as good as a paperweight in my hands?”

“I dunno, you could probably club someone pretty good with a paperweight.” Jisung gave him a blank stare. Jeongin moved to stand beside Jisung, also looking over the array of weapons on the stand in front of them. “I kinda suck at all of these too, actually.”

Jisung turned to him with a raised eyebrow. “Really? Because I have it on good authority that you are, in fact, talented, brilliant, incredible–”

Jeongin’s loud groan cut him off. “Really, Felix?” he mumbled into the sky. Jisung was laughing beside him, though, so that was a silver lining. “I mean, I guess I’m decent at the bow, and I can throw a hatchet pretty well. It’s just… neither of them feels right? Everyone says my aim is great, but what good is that if I’m not comfortable with my weapon?”

Jisung hummed. “Yeah, I get that. Except, I’m not even decent. I can barely swing a sword, my spear jabs are more like love taps, I can’t even pull a bowstring properly, and the last time I tried to lift an axe I think I threw my back out.”

“Same!” Jeongin laughed, “except, for me, it was my shoulders. Axes are just too heavy. And too big!”

Jisung smiled for a second, before a contemplative look came over his face. “Wait,” he mumbled to himself, opening the lowest drawer at the base of the weapon stand. Inside was an array of daggers and throwing knives. “What about these?”

Jeongin reached down hesitantly, grabbing one of the daggers and twirling it in his grasp. The weapon moved smoothly through the air. There was no resistance to slow its movements. Jeongin turned, giving a few experimental jabs and parries. The dagger moved as if it was an extension of himself. Each strike was precise, powerful, and near impossible to see. With a dagger, Jeongin could move _fast_.

“Try these!” Jisung eagerly handed him a belt of throwing knives. In the span of a breath, Jeongin grabbed and flicked them into a target at the other end of the training grounds. All six knives found their mark in the center of the dummy’s chest.

Jisung was smiling widely at him when Jeongin turned back, bearing a huge grin of his own. “I think you found your perfect fit,” Jisung said. “You moved so fast I could hardly see you!”

“Thank you,” Jeongin said in return. He was referring to much more than just the compliment.

Jisung’s smile melted into something softer. “Of course, Innie.” His eyes widened. “Um, I mean Jeongin!”

“Innie’s fine! The rest call me that sometimes, too.” Jeongin placed the dagger back in the weapon stand drawer and turned to collect the throwing knives. He looked to Jisung, first. “I mean it though; thank you. I’m gonna do my best to help you find your perfect fit, too!”

“Thanks, Innie.” Jeongin had a feeling Jisung, too, was talking about much more than Jeongin’s offer.

…

It’s not that Hyunjin didn’t like the Aphrodite kids, per se. They were all generally nice, and more than willing to offer up skin care routines or hair styling tips. It was just that he found most of their interests a little… vapid? Gods, he hated using that word; it made him sound like some stick-up-his-ass snob. (It made him sound like his father). But, it was true. Hyunjin appreciated basic hygiene, and maybe a little bit beyond that (he did have numerous face masks scattered about underneath his bed), but that wasn’t what he wanted to spend every other waking minute discussing. (He did like their weekly bonding hour, aka Hot Goss O’Clock. Gotta stay up to date on the camp’s rumors, and all.) And some of the Aphrodite kids were actually pretty chill. Yeji was always up for discussing the best ways to wield a sword, and Tzuyu was incredibly witty (even if she was roasting him, like, 75% of the time.) Still, though; Hyunjin wanted more.

Was that selfish of him? He didn’t think it was. (But was it actually?)

Every so often, Hyunjin would have a night spent in fitful sleep, thoughts chasing each other inside his head: he was being ungrateful, he was being too shallow, he had insights to offer, the others secretly thought he was an airhead, he actually was an airhead, he deserved respect, but actually did he really have anything to contribute?

That last point that stuck with him. Chan had some sort of sixth sense for who was supposed to be in his quest group; he had invited Hyunjin to join the group a couple days after Hyunjin was abandoned at Camp Half-Blood. Hyunjin had been ecstatic at the time. Someone actually wanted Hyunjin for Hyunjin; not for his face, or his proportions, or who his father was. Chan wanted _Hyunjin_. Then, a couple months later, Changbin showed up, and he was a son of Hades, and could walk through shadows like they were doorways, and could probably do a lot of other cool stuff once he had gotten some proper training. All Hyunjin could do was look pretty.

Well, technically, Hyunjin could do a whole lot more than that. He could control people with his voice. That was kind of a big thing, and also something Hyunjin had neglected to tell literally anyone else. It was scary, right? Being able to override someone’s will like that. Chan looked at him so kindly, like he was someone to be respected; and so did Felix, and so did Minho, and so did the others, once they arrived. He didn’t want them to ever look at him with disappointment, or disgust, or detachment. He didn’t want them to look at him the way his father had.

So Hyunjin made himself useful in other ways. He spent a lot of time training. Like, _a lot_ of time. He was more than proficient in a bow and could handle a spear or sword just fine. He even got some of the Ares and Athena kids to train him in various styles of hand-to-hand combat. When Seungmin arrived at the beginning of the summer, Hyunjin started going to the camp’s library with him to read up on Ancient Greece and the monsters that inhabited it. Hyunjin did anything and everything to try to make himself a little more useful in Chan’s quest group.

Then Jisung came along, and he could shoot lightening from his hands as if it was nothing, and Hyunjin felt all his hard work crumbling away before his eyes. What could Hyunjin contribute, in the face of _that_? He tried not to make it too obvious that he maybe resented Jisung a little. He kept his smiles bright and his manner joking and covered up the growing bags under his eyes with careful layers of foundation. The thing was, Jisung was kind, and funny, and probably had his own shit to deal with given the way he skirted around the edges of any conversation involving their mortal parents.

Yet Hyunjin was a son of Aphrodite, and Aphrodite was nothing if not pretty and petty. He found himself trying to avoid Jisung: showing up to breakfast later and later, turning in early from bonfires to get some “beauty sleep” (which Minho had snorted loudly at), even faking sick to avoid a weaving class he was pretty sure Jisung was also going to attend.

Seungmin caught on to this, of course. Seungmin didn’t miss much, and he was especially attentive to the seven other members of Chan’s quest group.

When Seungmin approached Hyunjin, asking if they could talk for a while at the lakeshore, Hyunjin was expecting it. He had honestly been expecting Seungmin to ask him about this much earlier. Seungmin had been busy with the second quest, though, and so his attention had been divided. With the prophecy fully investigated (thanks to one late-night brainstorming session at the bonfire), Seungmin had now turned his attention to the growing rift in the Quest Squad (trademark Hyunjin, like a week after Chan explained the whole thing to him). A few days later, Seungmin cornered Hyunjin at the lake.

“So,” Seungmin began once they were in a sufficiently remote area, “what’s up with you and Jisung?” Seungmin didn’t beat around the bush. Hyunjin liked that about him. He liked that Seungmin never tried to twist his words, or say something he didn’t mean, or wheedle his way through things. Seungmin just spoke, and that was that.

“It’s nothing.” Hyunjin, on the other hand, still struggled to express himself. He had been told time and time again to hold his tongue, to keep his problems to himself, to be a _goddamn proper Hwang_ and though he had spent over two years unlearning those behaviors, old habits died hard.

Seungmin raised an eyebrow. He saw through Hyunjin, as he had been doing since the beginning of the summer, as he had been doing since what seemed like forever. A beat passed, and Hyunjin caved.

“Okay, yes, it’s not nothing. It’s just, I dunno, jealousy? Maybe? Or feeling inferior? It’s nothing Jisung’s done; he’s been nothing but nice to me. Probably too nice, actually, since he keeps trying to talk to me when I’ve so clearly been avoiding him. I just… I mean, I just think that, like, compared to people like him, or Changbin, or even you… I just don’t know what I contribute.”

Seungmin had stayed silent through Hyunjin’s jumbled mess of words. His eyes were kind and his hand was warm when it grasped Hyunjin’s own. Seungmin wasn’t even saying anything, but Hyunjin felt tears gathering in his eyes, nonetheless.

“Gods, I’m so stupid, aren’t I? I mean, I know I’m like ‘destined’ to be in the group or whatever, but why? What can I even do? What else do I have going for me besides this _stupid_ _fucking face_?” He was openly sobbing by the end of it, and it was his father’s voice in his head telling him that “a Hwang does not cry, Hyunjin, get a hold of yourself,” and his free hand was coming up to claw at his cheeks but then Seungmin grabbed that hand, too, and held both of them tightly, lightly squeezing an erratic beat that drew Hyunjin’s attention back to the present moment. He took a shuddering breath, and then another, and then another as the stream of tears down his face ebbed to a trickle.

“I admire you, Hyunjin.” Those were _not_ the words Hyunjin was expecting to hear out of Seungmin’s mouth, and he met the other boy’s eyes with a jerking movement of his head. Seungmin was smiling at him: soft, but not patronizing. “I do. Every single day, you try to learn something: a new sword technique, a different way of fletching arrows, a monster’s weak point. You are constantly trying to better yourself. You put some of us Athena kids to shame.” Seungmin’s smile grew. Hyunjin could only stare, saltwater drying on his cheeks. “Yeah, you’re a child of Aphrodite. Alright, cool. But you don’t let that define who you are; who Hwang Hyunjin is. And he’s pretty inspiring, you know?”

Hyunjin was crying again, but these tears were soft and round as they dripped down his face. He didn’t know what to say, but he whispered, “thank you,” and hoped that was enough. Seungmin was smart. Seungmin would understand.

Hyunjin thought Seungmin got exactly what he wanted to say when the other simply squeezed his hands one more time before asking, “do you want to do some weaving with Jisung and me? I promised him I’d help him work on his weft technique.”

Hyunjin wiped his eyes (and they were not red and he looked perfect, as always) and said “yeah. Yeah, I think I’d really like that.”

Jisung smiled at both of them when they arrived, bright and unreserved, and Hyunjin sat down right next to him. He was Hwang Hyunjin, and he was very well going to make Hwang Hyunjin a name worthy of admiration.

…

Dionysus came to visit about every third full moon. Minho knew he should appreciate this; Dionysus visited infinitely more than every other god or goddess combined (the notable exception being Persephone, of course, who popped in and out of Camp Half-Blood frequently for 9 months out of the year). His dad always brought gifts, too: wine was a given, first watered down (“the Roman way,” Dionysus had said, handing Minho a small jug with a wink and a request to keep that hidden from Brian – aka _Young K_ – at all costs) and then full-strength once he turned thirteen. Minho had yet to become drunk off of this, but it was not for lack of trying. He also had an impressive collection of bomber jackets in various shades, all with some variation of large cat emblazoned on the back. He had yet to receive a panther jacket – “you get that one when you’ve earned it, kid” his dad had said, and Minho figured it was Dionysus’ own Athena-like trial of sorts. But still. There were only a handful of other Dionysus kids, and none of them were full-time residents. Minho frequently came back during the off season to visit Chan and Felix, and then Chan and Felix and Hyunjin, and then so on and so forth, so it made it all the more obvious that there was some favoritism going on when Dionysus would visit outside the summer months.

This made things a little dicey in the Dionysus cabin, sometimes. They were all Dionysus kids, after all, so they were going to be a little self-righteous. (Minho considered himself one of the milder cases, actually.) Whenever things got a little too tense in his cabin, though, Chan or Felix always had extra beds, and then Changbin did too (even though Changbin was almost never to be found in his own cabin but, like, Minho wouldn’t blame him; that thing was filled with skulls and creeped him the fuck out). So, like, Minho was fine, really.

And here’s the thing: Minho loved his dad. He would absolutely spear himself on Poseidon’s trident before he ever admitted this out loud, but it was irrevocably true. Dionysus was chill, and funny, and actually seemed to give a damn about his kids. Minho had seen Chan staring blankly out in the direction of Seoul’s harbor one too many times to take that last bit for granted. Minho just couldn’t understand why his dad cared so much about him, specifically.

The week after Jisung arrived, Minho finally worked up the nerve to ask Dionysus about it. The other boy’s arrival had made Minho realize just how grateful he was to have not one but two parents who gave a shit about him (but he couldn’t think for too long about how Jisung had none, and neither did Hyunjin, really, and wow haha allergies must be really bad this year, that’s why my eyes are red I have to go now okay bye).

“Hey, uh, Dad?” He had started.

Dionysus gave him a raised eyebrow, pushing his shades on top of his head. “What’s up, kid? You only call me Dad when it’s something serious. Girl troubles?” He gave Minho a wide grin. “Boy troubles?”

Minho could only roll his eyes. “I’m trying to be serious for, like, the first time in my life. I just wanted to, um, thank you, I guess. For showing up. And to maybe ask why? Like, why me?”

Dionysus instantly sobered up, dropping his shades down back over his eyes. He didn’t answer for a few moments too many, and Minho began wondering if he had fucked this all to the Underworld. Then, Dionysus asked “do you know how I became a god?”

“I mean, weren’t you just, you know, born a god? Or, wait, did you spring from Zeus’s head like Athena, because that’s just gross, I don’t care what Seungmin says about–”

“I was born mortal,” Dionysus said. Minho swore the click of his mouth snapping shut was audible the whole camp over. “Or, I guess it’s more accurate to say I was born half-mortal; for the barest instance, I was a demigod. A son of Zeus, actually. But I was born too early, and so due to some divine shenanigans that I’m sure would gross you out much more than Athena’s origin story, I was born again as a god.”

Dionysus turned to look at Minho, and Minho saw his own face, eyes wide, staring back at him in the reflection of the sunglasses. Dionysus sighed, and then pushed the glasses back up to the top of his head. Minho met his father’s eyes.

“Sometimes,” Dionysus began, and his words were so faint that Minho had to lean in to hear them, “I wish I had been allowed to remain mortal.”

Minho didn’t ask him any more questions after that. Dionysus left soon after, anyways, but not before promising to come back soon and meet the newest addition to Minho’s little camp family. He didn’t process any of the backhanded compliments thrown his way by the other Dionysus kids when he headed straight to bed that night. His mind was a swirling mess of orange and purple and his own eyes, staring back at him in the reflection of a pair of mirrored sunglasses.

…

Changbin and Jisung had just finished up another round of training (Jisung was getting somewhat decent with a sword, though he still complained that the weapon didn’t “feel right,” whatever that meant) when Changbin remembered his mom’s request concerning Jisung’s favorite food.

“Hey, so, uh,” he started rather elegantly. Jisung turned to him, expectant. How could he phrase this without giving the surprise away? “What was your ambrosia flavor?”

“My what?”

“Y’know, ambrosia? That little cube thing Chan said he gave you after the Giant attack? It’s a food of the gods, so we can’t really eat a lot of it, though we can manage small bits as demigods. It has healing magic or something. And it tastes different for everyone. So, what did yours taste like?”

“Oh! Cheesecake.”

“Cheesecake?” Changbin echoed, making a mental note to relay this to his mom later.

“Yup.” The look on Jisung’s face was near-indecipherable. “Cheesecake.”

“Okay, cool. Oh! Also, we’re doing dinner at my mom’s tomorrow; the whole Quest Squad will be there.” When Jisung just continued to stare blankly at him, Changbin rolled his eyes and elaborated. “That includes you. I mentioned this a while back, but my mom’s been doing welcome dinners for every demigod bound to Chan’s prophecy. Which means you’re coming to dinner with us, and my mom and Chan’s mom are going to make sure you eat until you can barely move. So, like, get ready.”

Jisung broke into the widest smile Changbin had seen on him. “Oh really? Wow! Ah, thank you! And your mom, and Chan’s mom! Oh, wait, I can thank them tomorrow in person. But, uh thank you! For the invitation.”

Changbin smiled, ruffling his hair slightly. “Of course, Ji.” The nickname slipped out without a second thought, but Changbin made no move to correct himself, and Jisung’s smile seemed to grow larger, if possible.

The next evening, all eight of them began the short journey from Camp Half-Blood to the apartment shared by Mrs. Seo and Mrs. Bang.

“I can’t wait to see them!” Hyunjin trilled. He was near skipping as he walked, and Changbin hid a fond smile behind a cough.

“You literally saw them three weeks ago when we did Jeongin’s welcome dinner.”

“Exactly, Changbin! That’s three weeks of being kept apart from my moms!”

Changbin noticed Jisung’s confused stare and murmured to the other boy. “My mom and Chan’s mom have basically decided to adopt all of us. Well, not Chan and I, cause we’re already their kids, but, ah, you get it. Anyways, they’ll be extra ‘mom’-ish to you since you’re the newest, and probably cause you’re another Big Three kid. So just, uh, get ready.” As Jisung’s stare morphed into one of fear, Changbin quickly added on, “you can let me know if it gets to be too much. I can always, I dunno, say I need to show you something in my room. Or something. But, if it starts to get overwhelming, just let me know. Okay?” Jisung nodded. If the other boy spent the remainder of the journey walking a little bit closer to Changbin’s side, well, Changbin couldn’t find it in himself to mind.

Changbin had knocked only once when the door was flung open and his mom engulfed him in a bone-crushing hug. “My baby!” She cried, then leaned back and grinned wide at the collection of boys on her doorstep. “All my babies! Now, where is my newest son?”

Jisung, who was still nearly tucked against Changbin, drew closer still. “Mom,” Changbin raised an eyebrow at her. He had cautioned his mom ahead of time to maybe take it back a notch or so when meeting Jisung, but, well. She _was_ his mom.

“I’m, uh, I’m Han Jisung. Nice to meet you.” The boy murmured from beside Changbin. Jisung had pinched the end of Changbin’s shirt between his thumb and forefinger and was lightly tugging on the material. Changbin didn’t think Jisung was aware he was doing this.

“Hello, Jisung.” Changbin’s mom held her arms open, an invitation, and Jisung hesitantly stepped into her embrace. Changbin heard her whisper into his hair, “welcome to our home. This is your home now too, okay? Whenever you need us, we’re here.”

Changbin’s mom released Jisung with one last fond pat to the top of his head, before opening her arms to the other boys. Hyunjin was the first to accept her invitation, with Felix following close behind.

As she continued to distribute hugs, another voice sounded from inside the house. “Are those my boys I hear out there? I’m just finishing up something in the kitchen, but please, come in! I’ll be done in a second.”

Changbin sidestepped around his mom, who was still caught up in dispensing hugs, and made his way into the kitchen to greet Chan’s mother. Jisung followed close behind, his fingers once more clutching the bottom of Changbin’s shirt. Changbin found his heart aching for the younger in a way he couldn’t quite name. He knew what it was like to be a kid of the Big Three, to be suddenly thrust into this lifestyle. But he didn’t know what it was like to try to do so without the support of his mom. Jisung hadn’t said much regarding what had happened to his mother, but Changbin knew it could be nothing good. Gods, what if she had abandoned him like Hyunjin’s father had? Changbin slowed his pace slightly, letting Jisung inch a little closer to him. He couldn’t do much, but he could do this.

“Changbin!” Chan’s mother exclaimed once she caught sight of him. “And – oh! You must be Jisung. The newest addition to Channie’s little group.” She gave the both of them a warm smile. She had dimples identical to Chan’s.

“Um, hello, ma’am. My name is Han Jisung. Nice to meet you.” Jisung gave her a little half-bow.

Changbin snorted at Jisung’s action, moving further into the kitchen in an effort to tug the other boy along with him. Jisung followed.

“Can I give you a hug, sweetheart?” Chan’s mom asked. Jisung gave a nearly imperceptible nod, and then she was enveloping him in a gentle, careful hug. When she let him go, she turned to Changbin with a teasing smile. “Your turn!” Changbin easily stepped into her arms, hugging her back and breathing in the unmistakable scent of cheesecake.

Jisung must have finally processed the scent, as his eyes grew incredibly round and his head snapped over in the direction of the fridge. “Is there…?”

“Changbinnie told us that your favorite food is cheesecake, so we went and whipped up a batch for you and the rest of the boys! It should be finished chilling by the time we’re done with dinner.”

Jisung continued to stare at the fridge with wide eyes. “Thank you,” he managed, and then abruptly turned to Changbin. “Um, Changbin, can you show me your room now? You, uh, promised, remember?”

“Hm?” Jisung’s eyes were wide and pleading and maybe a little wet. _Oh_. “Oh! Yeah, of course; it’s just down this way.”

Changbin led Jisung out of the kitchen, communicating to Chan, who had just wriggled his way past Changbin’s mother and into the apartment, via eyebrow signals that Jisung needed a moment. Chan nodded, tilting his head back towards the other boys in an “I got this” gesture. Changbin nodded back, then gently grabbed the hand with which Jisung had been clutching his shirt and led the other boy into his bedroom.

His walls were – somewhat embarrassingly – covered in posters of anime shows and K-pop groups, along with a couple prominent K-rappers. Changbin didn’t think Jisung cared. He led the other boy to his bed and settled them both down, wrapping an arm around Jisung’s shoulders.

“Déjà vu,” the other boy whispered as he leaned against Changbin’s side.

“Hm?”

“Oh, nothing. Um, thank you. For, uh, putting up with me. Sorry I’m a bit… like this.”

“No problem. And nothing to apologize for. I was an absolute wreck when I first came to Camp Half-Blood; you’ve been doing so much better than I have!”

Jisung remained silent. Changbin let him. Sometimes, others needed a bit of silence.

“Still,” Jisung spoke softly after a few minutes. “Thank you. And thank you for not asking.”

Changbin didn’t need him to clarify what he meant. There was still a glaring hole in Jisung’s backstory. The other boy had yet to explain how he’d gotten to Camp Half-Blood, or from where, or how long he’d traveled. That first night after Jisung’s arrival, Chan had told the rest of them not to press the issue, and that request had been respected. And Changbin got it, really. It had taken him a while to open up to Chan about his lingering fears regarding the chimera he had faced, and longer still to talk to the rest of the boys about it. Jisung needed time, and that was okay.

“I’m here when you want to talk, but I’m also here when you just want to stay silent.” Changbin gave Jisung’s shoulder a little squeeze. The other let out a shuddering breath.

Another couple moments passed, and then Jisung moved to stand. Changbin let him. “I think I’m ready for dinner,” Jisung said.

Changbin smiled at him, also standing. “And cheesecake?”

The smile Jisung gave him in return was genuine and bright. “I’m always ready for cheesecake!” Together, the two of them rejoined the rest of the group.

…

Here were three important things Jisung learned about Camp Half-Blood in his first couple weeks (and one bonus):

  1. There was no cell reception and no Wi-Fi inside the camp’s boundaries.



He was alerted to this fact by Minho, who dragged him aside one afternoon for what he deemed a “very important educational power hour,” which actually amounted to Minho showing Jisung over a hundred photos of his two cats until Jisung could tell them apart with ease. Minho then went on to lecture Jisung about the lack of cell service and Wi-Fi in the camp, which meant Minho had to stock up on pictures of Soonie and Doongie, and download cat videos off YouTube in the camp’s off season so he could last through the summer. When Jisung agreed that there was no such thing as too many pictures of Minho’s very adorable cats, he inadvertently passed some sort of initiation test. From that point onwards, Minho would regularly pull Jisung aside to view his CATalogue of pictures and videos. (“It is very important that you capitalize the first three letters when you say it,” Minho told Jisung. By that point, Jisung had learned better than to ask why, or how, so he just nodded and did his very best to emphasize the C-A-T of catalogue every time he said it.) Felix and Seungmin were supposedly banned from this little tradition, though they inevitably would manage to wheedle their way into a viewing session with little to no protesting from Minho. It was nice, laying on the floor with Minho and maybe a few others, giggling over internet cats and cooing at Minho’s own “very precious children.” Jisung didn’t even mind the lack of cell reception or Wi-Fi. It wasn’t like needed to get in contact with anyone outside the camp.

  1. Bang Chan was the unofficial second-in-command at Camp Half-Blood.



No one really told Jisung this, explicitly, but he figured it out for himself after witnessing nearly a dozen instances of campers seeking out Chan with questions or problems or bugs in their cabin (Hyunjin, usually). When he mentioned this offhand to Felix one morning after they were the first two to arrive at the breakfast table (a common occurrence, which led to their joint nickname of the sunshine twins), Felix just gave him a blank stare. “Well, yeah. He’s been here over six years; the longest of any of us.” Felix perked up a little. “That’s why his hair is so big; it’s full of secrets!” When Jisung didn’t immediately respond to his statement, Felix muttered something into his coffee about _fetch_ , maybe, which was an English word Jisung definitely did not know. Seungmin showed up a couple minutes later, Jeongin trailing behind him, and Felix instructed Seungmin to add _Mean Girls_ to their movie list. Seungmin nodded, and that was that.

(That’s another thing Jisung learned: Seungmin remembered everything. Like, _everything_ everything. Seungmin told him it had something to do with being an Athena kid: they tended towards mnemonist tendencies. Still, Jisung thought Seungmin was playing himself down a little too much. Jisung had met a couple other Athena kids, and they all agreed Seungmin was a monster when it came to trivia night.)

  1. Being a son of Zeus was a Very Big Deal.



Again, Jisung found this out kind of on his own. People treated him differently, here. They tended to avoid him, or else were respectful to the point of reverence. This was fine, at first. Jisung himself was trying his best to avoid anyone and everyone at Camp Half-Blood (outside of Brian, maybe, and Chan, and six other exceptions that kept gently forcing themselves into his life). But after the first week or so, he was a bit more comfortable in the environment and was ready to start fulfilling his somewhat neglected social needs. Except, very few people seemed willing to actually be around him for any length of time. It was Changbin who had eventually noticed Jisung’s drooping demeanor and sat him down for what he called “The Big Three Talk.” Changbin said Chan had done something similar for him his first week at camp, and so he was just passing the favor along. After that, Jisung understood a bit more, maybe, about why people tended to shy away. He was powerful; the Giant he had fried was proof of that. What’s more, he didn’t yet have a good grasp of his abilities like Chan and Changbin, which made him not only powerful, but dangerous. Brian had mandated that only Chan and Changbin could spar with him, at least until he got a better grip of his abilities. The other two didn’t seem to mind, and the rest of Chan’s little Quest Squad (trademark Hyunjin) were more than willing to hang out with him outside of the training grounds. So, Jisung allowed himself to grow more and more comfortable with them. They, in turn, continued to welcome Jisung back to their breakfast table, their bonfire huddle, their rug-weaving sessions (which was really more like Seungmin weaving perfect rugs while everyone else did their best to interrupt his process). Little by little, Jisung began to consider Camp Half-Blood a place where he belonged.

  1. Bonus: He had a family, here.



And, really, what more needed to be said about that?

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Me: This chapter is going to be Soft Boi Hours only!  
> Also me: But, like, what if there was some angst?
> 
> I am a Sucker for hurt/comfort, so that's basically my only excuse. But hopefully you enjoyed nonetheless! I promise that the actual quest plot line is coming in hot in the upcoming chapter, so get jazzed for that. In the meantime, stay safe, stay healthy, and continue to reach out to friends and family. Love you all so much!!!


	8. The Day the Earth Split in Two

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hello, and welcome to "Amanda Attempts an Action Scene." I'm your host, Amanda, and this is an attempted action scene.

The day the earth split in two started the same as every other. Jisung woke up, alone, in his white marble cabin. His sleep had been nightmare free (for once), and so he was allowing himself a hesitant optimism that it would be a good day. He had gotten ready, thrown on one of his many hand-me-down (or hand-me-over, in the case of the shirts Felix had given him) orange tee shirts, and made his way to breakfast. He was the first to arrive, as always. Back in Malaysia, it had been near-impossible to get him out of bed in the mornings for school. Now, he found it difficult to sleep past 7 am. He was exhausted, yes, but he preferred to be exhausted. He didn't dream as often when he was exhausted.

Felix showed up a little while later, not even acknowledging Jisung as he made a beeline for the coffee machine. Once he had roughly one and a half cups in his system, he became a little more aware of the world around him and slumped into a seat next to Jisung.

“No egg mountain today?” Jisung teased, offering Felix some of the assorted fruit and rolls on his own plate (Jisung always got extra for Felix). Felix merely grunted in response, taking a roll to nibble on as he stared blankly at the table. The coffee was evidently still working its way through his system.

The two boys ate together in companionable silence. About halfway through Jisung's second plate, Felix finally came to life. “Oh, Jisung! I ate all your food again.” Felix pouted at Jisung, who just laughed.

“Don't worry about it! I always get way more than I can eat alone, anyways.”

“Yeah, but still. I feel like you've barely put on weight since you arrived at camp, and you were basically half-starved at that point.”

Jisung chuckled nervously and looked down at his lap. He had spent those days of relentless travel with minimal meals, and though food was plentiful at Camp Half-Blood, he had found himself with little to no appetite. He just couldn't find the willpower to force more than a couple mouthfuls down at each meal. The exception had been the dinner at Changbin's house a couple nights ago. He'd actually had a normal portion size, and then two ( _two!_ ) slices of cheesecake for dessert. Other than that, though, he just didn't find himself hungry. He didn't know why.

Felix was still staring at him when Jisung looked up from his lap. He was expecting an answer Jisung didn't have. “I'll, um, try to eat more?” Jisung offered. It was the best he could do.

Felix must not have been satisfied with his answer, because as soon as Chan showed up a moment later, he said, “Chan! Tell Jisung that he needs to put on some weight.”

Jisung avoided eye contact with Chan. He could feel the tips of his ears burning. “I told Felix I'd try to eat more,” he mumbled to the table.

“Felix, lay off him a bit, okay? I know you're just worried, but Jisung's gone through a lot of pretty big life changes recently, and his body is probably still adjusting to everything. I'm sure his appetite will come back with time.”

Felix huffed, probably not satisfied with that answer, either, but he did nudge Jisung's shoulder with his own and murmur, “sorry, Ji. I didn't mean to pressure you or anything; I just want you to be healthy.”

Jisung nudged him back. “It's okay! Thank you for, uh, caring. About me.” He turned to Chan. “You too! It, um, means a lot.”

“Ugh, look at you; too good for this world, too pure.” Minho sidled up to their table, plopping himself down on Jisung's other side and wrapping his arms around Jisung's head.

“Minho...” Chan started, trailing off and shaking his head. It was a losing battle, Jisung knew.

“Oh, is Minho trying to suffocate one of us with love again?” Seungmin was next to arrive at the table, Jeongin in tow. “Who's the lucky one this time?”

“Jisung,” Chan said, still looking on in exasperation.

“Thanks for taking the bullet!” Jeongin said as he passed by on his way to grab breakfast.

By the time the six of them were settled with food (or empty plates), Hyunjin finally deigned to grace them with his presence.

“Here come that boy!” Felix yelled upon sighting him. Jisung winced; Felix's mouth had been right next to his ear.

“Oh shit, waddup,” Hyunjin slurred, interrupted midway through by a yawn. “Am I the last one?”

“Nope, you beat Changbin!” Jeongin said.

“Sweet! No dish collection for me! I'm about to spread my breakfast across, like, six plates just to spite him.”

“Oh, good idea!” Seungmin stood up and accompanied Hyunjin over to the breakfast area.

Jisung watched as the two of them proceeded to use as many plates and bowls as possible for a normal amount of food. “Changbin's gonna be pissed,” he noted.

“You snooze you lose,” Minho said.

“Literally!” Felix added. Chan just sighed yet again.

Changbin showed up a minute later, panting slightly and murmuring curses to himself. “Please tell me I beat Hyunjin.”

“Nope!” The boy in question plopped down into his seat, balancing four plates and two bowls in his arms. Each held a singular food item. Seungmin followed behind him, carefully setting his own assortment of dishware down onto the table.

“Are you fucking kidding me,” Changbin said. Hyunjin and Seungmin simply gave him large grins in return. Changbin stared at them a moment longer, before grumbling “you all suck” and going to get breakfast for himself.

Jisung found himself grinning into his orange juice as conversation picked up around him. _This is nice._ Most mornings at Camp Half-Blood followed a similar pattern of good-natured teasing. Jisung had yet to really join in on any of the plentiful mini-roasts that occurred, but he was getting close. It was already mid-August; he had been at Camp Half-Blood for weeks now and his fondness for the boys around him had been growing steadily since he arrived. He had yet to tell any of them about his journey from Malaysia, or his mom. Brian knew, but as the camp director he had to know, and he had promised to hold his tongue until Jisung was comfortable with sharing.

 _Sometime soon,_ Jisung decided, glancing at the boys around him. _I'll tell them sometime soon._ He was getting tired of dealing with his nightmares alone. Outside of that one night he spent in Chan's cabin, he had yet to impose on the other boys. Back in Malaysia, he had shared a small bedroom with his mom. He hated sleeping alone, but he hadn't wanted to explain his night terrors. Now, though, Jisung thought he might be okay letting the others in. He trusted them in a way he hadn't trusted anybody outside of his mom.

“Let's do the bonfire tonight!” Jisung wasn't sure what conversations had been going on previously, but all of them ceased at his suggestion.

“Yeah!” Felix was quick to give him a large thumbs up.

“Gotta make the most of the last of s'mores season,” Changbin said.

“I guess my schedule's open,” added Minho, inspecting his nails in an effort to maintain an air of nonchalance. He was smirking, though, which immediately spoiled his faux-indifference.

“Summer's almost over, huh?” Chan’s eyes were fond and a bit sad.

Jeongin frowned. “I don't wanna go back to school! Can't I just drop out and be a yearlong camper like you?”

“You have to get an education, Innie!” Chan protested. “And besides, we still have school here. And Brian is _not_ an easy grader.”

Jisung was a bit startled. _That's right_ , it was August. School would be starting soon. He knew Chan, Felix, and Hyunjin were yearlong campers, but the rest would be heading back to their homes. Would he be allowed to stay at camp? He didn't think he had a home to go back to, not anymore. And he didn't have the money to travel, regardless. Oh god, would he have to pay for the summer session? He couldn't afford to stay any longer, but where would he go? Could he live at Changbin’s? Would that put everyone in the apartment in danger? There would be two Big Three kids under one roof, surely that would be like a homing beacon for monsters, he couldn't do that to Chan or Changbin’s moms...

“Hey, Jisung?” Minho's gentle question interrupted his spiraling. “You okay?”

“Um, can I stay at camp? For, um, the whole year? And, how much would that cost?” He thought he still had a little bit of money left; he could probably pay for the few weeks he’d spent at Camp Half-Blood during the summer. He’d have to get a job, though, or see if maybe Brian would let him stay in exchange for some other form of payment like cleaning, or washing dishes, or tending the yards, or something. Jisung would do near anything to stay.

When he finally focused back on the present moment, he found that the other boys were staring at him blankly.

“Jisung,” Chan started, “were you never told that Camp Half-Blood is free? The gods don’t have much use for human currency. We make all the money the camp needs through selling our garden crops, or our weavings, or other assorted things. We don’t have to pay anything to be here.”

“Oh.” Jisung felt stupid. His ears were burning, and he clenched the fabric of his shorts in his hands. Of course the camp was free. What a dumb question to ask.

“Hell yeah you can stay at camp yearlong!” Felix’s cheer busted through the beginnings of another spiral as he wrapped an arm around Jisung’s shoulder.

Hyunjin, too, perked up. “Yeah! One of us, one of us!” He started beating the table in time with his chanting, and Felix joined in near-immediately with his free hand.

Chan rolled his eyes, but he was smiling. “What these two are very enthusiastically trying to say is that you’re more than welcome to stay the year if you can’t make it home. Hyunjin, Felix, and I are some of the only yearlong campers, and we’d love to have you join us!”

“That’d be great,” Jisung said, unclenching his hands. He ignored the ‘if you can’t make it home’ part of Chan’s invitation. _Later_ , he thought. _Maybe tonight, at the bonfire. Yeah. Tonight._

“We’ll come visit you all!” Jeongin said.

“And you all are more than welcome to our apartment for dinner, any time. No RSVP needed.” Changbin added.

“Thank you,” Jisung said, “I–”

He was interrupted by a loud, low rumble. The various dishware scattered on top of the table began to clatter, and Jisung felt his whole body shudder as the bench he was on started to rock.

“What’s happening?” Jeongin’s eyes were wide and frightened.

“Earthquake?” Felix offered, his eyes just as wide.

“Earthquake…” Seungmin repeated, before suddenly jumping to his feet. “Guys, it’s happening! ‘The earth split in two;’ Jisung’s prophecy!”

No sooner had he finished speaking than a long crack began to form in the ground a little ways away. It stretched from just outside the dining area to one of the camp’s grassy sporting fields. As they watched, the crack began to widen, bits of earth tumbling into its growing mouth. The rest of the boys quickly scrambled to their feet, moving away from the rattling dining tables. Around them, other campers who had been eating breakfast at their own tables moments earlier were also rushing to their feet. They all ended up just outside the dining area, a little ways back from the origin of the crack.

“Everyone behind me!” Chan’s voice was booming, and Jisung found himself scrambling back behind Chan’s right shoulder at the command. The crack continued to widen. It was now over a foot across. “Jeongin, Minho; organize the crowd. Get them to head towards the lake, if possible. Felix, Hyunjin, Seungmin; the three of you grab weapons, as many as you can. Bring them to the lake; we’ll fallback there. Changbin, Jisung; you’re with me.”

Jisung felt his heart drop to his feet. “Chan, I can’t–”

“You can.” Chan’s reply left no room for argument. “You have, and you can.”

“We’re right here with you, Ji.” Changbin took up a position at Chan’s left.

The growth of the crack had begun to slow. Wordlessly, Jisung moved to stand at Chan’s right. The others had spread in all different directions. Minho and Jeongin were herding demigods towards the lake, and a few other campers had stepped up to assist. Felix and Hyunjin had taken off to grab weapons, roping a few Ares and Athena kids into their mission. In the distance, Jisung saw Brian barreling down from the Big House, armed with a long bronze spear. The centaur was headed in the direction of the cabins, likely to round up any campers still sleeping.

In another moment, the crack stopped widening. It was nearly three feet across. For the span of a breath, it was just the three of them – Chan, Changbin, and Jisung – standing shoulder to shoulder in the empty dining area. Then, the first skeletal hand clawed its way over the lip of the gap.

As soon as the hand appeared, Chan swept his arms, and all the water that had been gurgling in a nearby fountain lifted into the air and came to swirl in front of the three boys. Changbin grit his teeth, lifting his own arms, and the shadows of the three boys stretched and darkened until there were swirling masses of shade undulating before them. Jisung tried his best to remember how it had felt to summon the lightning he had used to kill the Giant. He had been angry, hadn't he? Near mindless with the emotion. But he wasn't angry now. As the first skeleton lifted its upper body out of the crack, the only thing Jisung felt was fear.

“Jisung,” Chan grunted, his entire being focused on shaping the water into a wall between the boys and the skeletons.

“I'm trying!” Jisung was half-desperate, half-angry at himself. His fingers were sparking, but that was about it. He had been practicing, working with Chan and Changbin to learn how to draw his god-given gift out, but this was as far as his progression had gotten: a few sparking fingers and a whole lot of frustration.

“We're right here with you,” Changbin added, his voice strained.

The first skeleton pulled itself completely out of the crack. Behind it, a multitude more were beginning to emerge from the ground. They were dressed in various military outfits and holding swords and spears and batons. They had no eyes, but Jisung imagined they must have been glaring. They were terrifying and numerous.

“I'll take the middle; you guys clean up the stragglers,” Chan instructed. He pushed his arms forward, and the wall of water moved with him. “We need to hold them here as long as possible to give the others time to distribute weapons. The lake is our fall back.”

“Got it.” Changbin moved further to the left, dragging the pools of shade with him. Jisung watched as he began to weave shadows through the feet of the skeletons, tripping them up and slowing them dramatically.

Jisung inched towards the right, away from the other two boys. He could do this. He had to protect his new home, his new family! He had to protect them in the way he hadn't been able to protect his mother.

For a second, his hands flashed bright, and an arc of lightning flew from Jisung into a skeleton that had been skirting around the edge of Chan's water wall. The skeleton shivered, and dropped to the ground, its charred bones scattering about it. A moment later, it began to reform, blackened bones aligning themselves. Jisung's hands dulled to their normal luminosity. The skeleton stood up.

“Um, guys...?” Jisung said. The skeleton took a step forward. Changbin cursed under his breath, yanking his shadows tauter and pulling the legs off a cluster of skeletons. Chan pushed his wall of water out, taking apart numerous skeletons in the process. These skeletons, too, began to reform almost as soon as they hit the ground.

“We'll think of something,” Chan grunted, reforming his water wall. The wall was slightly smaller, this time. “For now, just focus on stalling them.”

Jisung turned back to the skeleton he had dissembled. It was moving towards him on shaky legs, its steps growing stronger and stronger with every second that passed. Jisung desperately extended his hands, willing them to flash once more. Nothing happened outside of a few weak sparks. The skeleton continued to advance. It raised its sword, and Jisung took an involuntary step back. His heel caught on a patch of uneven ground and he fell backwards, catching himself painfully on his elbows before his head could hit the ground.

“Jisung!” Both Changbin and Chan were turning towards him, eyes wide as they continued to maintain their respective shade and water barricades. The skeleton's sword was coming down, aimed at the intersection of Jisung's neck and shoulder. All Jisung could do was watch with wide eyes.

Before the sword could make contact, an arrow went whizzing by Jisung’s head and found its mark in the skeleton’s bony grip on its sword. Its fingerbones were scattered by the arrow, and its sword clattered to the ground a foot from where Jisung lay. When he looked back, he saw Hyunjin notching another arrow, eyes narrowed and locked on his next target.

“Why did you guys come back?” Chan shouted as he swept a few skeletons back in yet another wave of water. The wall that he reformed was notably smaller than the previous two. Chan was tiring, Jisung realized. His heartbeat leapt into his throat.

“To bring you weapons, obviously!” When Jisung turned his head back again, he saw Felix approaching with his own bow slung across his back and carrying an armful of weapons. Felix ran to Jisung first, helping the fallen boy to his feet and giving him a sword. Felix then moved to Changbin, offering him his axe, before finally stopping beside Chan to hand over his trident.

“You should have stayed at the lake with the others!” Chan’s voice was harsh, but Jisung could see the gratitude in his eyes even from a distance.

“But all the excitement’s out here!” Jisung hadn’t heard Minho approach, but when he turned, there stood the other boy, sword in hand. Behind him was Seungmin, and Jeongin was running over as well, knives glinting in his hands.

“Who’s protecting those at the lake?” Changbin grunted, sweeping shadows through the legs of an approaching skeleton with one hand as he hefted his axe with the other.

“Brian.” Minho answered simply, before lifting his sword and neatly bringing it down through the arm of the skeleton that had tried to hack at Jisung earlier.

“And Brian’s staff, and the older campers!” Jeongin added, before throwing a knife straight through the eye socket of a skeleton and knocking its head clean off.

“Three points!” Hyunjin cheered, whipping an arrow out and attempting the same maneuver. His shot, too, tore the head off another skeleton.

“Guys, it won’t…” Jisung tried to speak, but his voice was too weak. He was just _too goddamn weak…_

“These bastards reform.” Changbin gave voice to the words Jisung tried to say. As if to prove his point, the skeletons that had just been knocked down slowly began to regroup and rise to their feet. Abandoning his grip on the shadows, Changbin lifted his axe with two hands and smashed it through the skull of the nearest skeleton. As soon as his axe made contact, a dark glow enveloped the weapon. The skeleton reeled back, its skull collapsing in on itself as its body turned into a pile of golden dust.

“You did it! Hell yeah son of Hades, _bone ‘em real good_!” Felix screeched, Korean fading into English as his voice increased in fervor. He had yet to draw his bow. Instead, he clenched his hands, and twisting brambles and thorny vines were pulled up from the ground. At his direction, they wove themselves among the feet of the skeletons, tangling them up much as Changbin’s shadows had done.

“I, uh…” Changbin collapsed into a half kneel. One knee was planted on the ground as he used his axe to help prop himself up. “I don’t think I can do that too many more times.”

Jisung scrambled over to him, desperate to help him to his feet. But then what? He had been basically useless this battle. Sure, he had taken one skeleton down, but it had immediately reformed, and he hadn’t been able to do too much more after that than make some sparks. He did have a sword now, but his form was so much poorer than the other boys’. What good was he? _Useless._ Still, he fell to his knees besides Changbin, slinging one of the older boy’s arms over his shoulders, and helped him to a standing position.

“They’re Spartoi!” These were the first words Seungmin had spoken this entire time. He had been quiet and unmoving up until now, and his sudden exclamation startled Jisung into slipping. It was then Changbin’s turn to keep Jisung upright by quickly grasping his upper arm.

“What?” Chan yelled back. He swept a small wall of water into a skeleton that had been heading towards Hyunjin and drove his trident through the ribcage of one getting a little too close to Felix. Jisung wished desperately that he could be even a quarter as good as Chan at fighting. If he could just do _something_.

“The skeletons! They’re Spartoi! I can–” Seungmin cut himself off, racing back into the dining area.

Jisung wasn’t afforded the opportunity to see what he was doing. A skeleton launched itself towards Changbin and him, and the other boy brought his axe down through its clavicle with a grunt. The skeleton dissolved into gold powder, Changbin staggered, and Jisung abandoned his sword in favor of making sure Changbin didn’t crack his skull open on the ground. As Jisung lowered a disoriented Changbin into a half-sitting, half-slumped position, he took stock of those around him. Minho was hacking and slashing at everything in sight, a wild look in his eyes. Hyunjin was firing arrow after arrow from a rapidly decreasing quiver. Jeongin had run out of throwing knives and had taken up a position besides Hyunjin, dagger drawn and ready to slash at any skeleton that came too close. Chan was standing with his trident raised, having completely given up on wielding water as he fended off any skeleton that came too close to Felix, who was crouched on the ground, directing his vines to slow down the approach of the skeletons as much as possible. _And there you are, doing nothing_ , a little voice hissed at the back of Jisung’s mind. Jisung sprang to his feet, sword back in his hand. He wasn’t sure what he was going to do, but he had to do something. 

Before Jisung could move any further, Seungmin was running by him towards where most of the skeletons were grouped.

“Seungmin!” Chan cried, but the boy paid him no mind. Seungmin stopped a few meters from the skeletons. He reared back, and Jisung had the barest hint of a second to try to make out what was grasped in his hand – _an apple?_ – before Seungmin was pitching the object directly into the temple of a skeleton in the middle of the throng. Upon impact, the skeleton immediately reared back and swung at the skeleton nearest to it, which then crashed into the skeleton nearest it, and so on. The effect radiated out until the skeletons were all fighting viciously among themselves, the eight demigods all but forgotten as they hacked themselves into clouds of fine golden dust.

“Credit to Cadmus and Jason.” Seungmin’s grin was sharp as the last of the skeletons fell, leaving nothing but a thin layer of golden dust and gouge marks in the dirt. A second later, a dark blue owl popped up over Seungmin’s head, glowing brightly.

“Seungmin…” Chan trailed off, pointing to the hologram just over the other boy’s head.

Seungmin looked up, and promptly burst into tears. “Oh, gods, I’m, uh, I’m sorry, I just, I…”

Jisung was the first to reach him. _I can do this_ , he thought as he wrapped the other boy up in an embrace, sword long since abandoned. He tangled his own shaking hands in Seungmin’s familiar orange tee shirt.

“You’re amazing,” he whispered into Seungmin’s ear. A moment later, Hyunjin let out a huge whoop and crashed into Seungmin’s side, sending both him and Jisung stumbling until Felix launched himself into their opposite side. The other boys joined the huddle shortly after, all eight of them swaying slightly as Seungmin broke down in the privacy of their embrace. Seungmin’s sobs turned to shaking, then sniffling, then eventually died down to nothing. He carefully extracted himself from the huddle, wiping his eyes on the edge of his shirt.

“Thank you. Just, thank you.” Seungmin took a deep breath and rolled his shoulders back. “We should probably get Brian and the rest.”

No sooner had he spoken than a horde of armed demigods, led by Brian and four other men, charged up onto the battlefield. They stilled upon seeing the mass of golden dust being swept around by a slight breeze.

“Seungmin took care of it!” Chan was beaming as he gestured at Seungmin, who still had an owl floating over his head.

“Seungmin, son of Athena. Thank you.” Brian broke into a large grin of his own. “And, congratulations.”

Hyunjin started a chant of “Seungmin, Seungmin!” and soon everyone gathered was cheering for the newly claimed son of Athena, who was hiding his blushing face in his hands. Jisung added his voice to the cheer, proudly crying out the name of his friend. From the corner of his eye, he saw Brian give the group a fond smile before turning and heading back to the lake to collect those who hadn’t been able to fight. _Like me_ , he thought, and then shook his head slightly. Now was a time to be proud of Seungmin, and the rest of his friends. He could berate himself for his shortcomings later.

Jisung rejoined the cheering with a renewed intensity, stooping to collect a handful of golden dust and throwing it over Seungmin with a loud whoop. He apparently started a trend, and soon fistfuls of skeleton dust were flying all over the place, decorating the campers and the campground alike with a layer of shimmering gold. There would be time to worry about how the skeletons had gotten into Camp Half-Blood, and what to do next, later. For now, the sole focus of the late morning was jubilation over a battle won.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> We're just getting started, baybee ;)
> 
> Hope you all enjoyed reading! Stay safe, stay healthy, stay sane, stay inside, and I'll see you all next weekend! <3


	9. The Truth Untold

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> [BTS song title in a SKZ fic? I don't give a damn.](https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=fiDmp1HkHK8)
> 
> So this chapter is kinda filler, but necessary filler! Also a lot ~friendship~ and ~healing~ because I write what I want to read lol. Hope you enjoy!

There was a gathering at the bonfire pit the day of the skeleton attack, though it occurred much earlier than a typical bonfire. It was also notable for the fact that there was no fire lit, though a few campers had scattered golden dust over the burnt logs to imitate sparks. Brian called all the campers together a little past noon, just following the impromptu party in the dining area. Jisung had stayed close to the seven other boys after the last skeleton had fallen to dust; all of them had been applauding Seungmin for his quick thinking and hyping up his claim long past when the owl hologram finally disappeared. The excitement of the others was contagious, and so even though Jisung felt he had not truly earned his place in the celebrations, he had been caught up in the revelry nonetheless. The celebrations ceased when the low note of a conch rang out through the camp. This was a summons from Brian to gather at the bonfire, and Jisung and the others obliged. Clusters of other campers joined them as they made their way towards the bonfire pit. When the last of the restless demigods had settled onto a log seat, Brian clapped his hands together, once, and all fell silent.

“I would like to start off by saying how proud I am of all of you,” Brian began. “I’d also like to extend my deepest thanks and congratulations to Kim Seungmin, son of Athena.” The boys whooped, and Seungmin ran a hand over the top of his head unconsciously, as if the owl was still there. Jisung could see the reddening of his ears from his seat a couple spaces down from Seungmin. The boy deserved all the praise he got, and more. _All seven of them do_ , Jisung thought.

As if he had heard Jisung’s thoughts, Brian then added, “I would also like to applaud the eight demigods who fought so valiantly against the skeleton attackers. You all have acted selflessly and heroically today.” Jisung flinched back into his seat at that. Had he really, though?

Brian’s face turned grim. “Although we should praise the heroics shown earlier, we also have to talk about the reason why such heroics were necessary. Camp Half-Blood should be protected against all monster attacks, but these Spartoi were able to form within the boundaries of this camp. I know this is unsettling, and I promise that I and the rest of the staff will do everything in our power to investigate the source of this occurrence.” The four other men standing in a loose formation around Brian – _Sungjin, Jae, Wonpil, and Dowoon_ , Jisung’s brain supplied, gave tight nods in response to Brian’s words.

Brian continued, “in the meantime, the camp will be in a heightened state of alert. Starting now, no one is allowed to walk through camp on their own. Leisure time will be shortened. Training will be increased. If any of you want to return home early, please come speak with me. However, I still believe Camp Half-Blood is one of the safest places for a young demigod to be. I again applaud you all for your bravery, and would like to remind you that, united, we are so much stronger than if we were to stand alone.”

With a final half-bow, Brian stepped away from the central fire pit, the other four scattering out to tend to the aftermath of the battle. The gathered demigods began to disperse, some heading back to their cabins, some lingering in their seats and eyeing Brian with questions perched on the tips of their tongues. Brian held up a finger towards them, before trotting towards Jisung and the rest. “Chan, may I speak with you for a moment?” Chan nodded, and the two made their way over to a more secluded area.

“Do you think it’s quest time?” Hyunjin was nearly vibrating in his seat. Jisung suspected the other boy had yet to come down from the adrenaline rush of earlier. He would likely crash long and hard tonight.

“I mean, Jisung’s quest kind of wrapped up today,” Changbin said. “We all agreed that his quest would probably finish right before Chan’s started, so yeah. I think it’s quest time.”

Jisung frowned. Was his quest actually over? Were they usually given and then concluded so quickly? Was he supposed to feel something when it finished? He didn’t know, but he wasn’t so sure things were as neatly concluded as Changbin had said.

Before Jisung could decide if he wanted to raise his concerns to the rest of the group, Chan returned to their small huddle.

“Well?” Hyunjin demanded. “Is it quest time?”

“Probably,” Chan replied. “Brian didn’t say anything specifically about my quest, but he wants to meet with us later tonight, once things have died down a bit from this morning.”

“All of us?” Jeongin asked.

“All of us,” Chan confirmed.

“Quest time,” Hyunjin whispered. An almost reverent silence fell over the eight boys. Jisung wasn’t quite sure how to feel. He had just begun to settle into Camp Half-Blood, and now it was looking like he’d have to leave his home once more. This time, though, he wouldn’t be alone. That might make things a bit more bearable. Still, being on the road would probably return him to that frantic state of mind he’d been in following his departure from Malaysia. His breakdowns had become more and more sporadic over the past couple weeks, but Jisung knew they’d return in full force if he had to disrupt the fragile schedule he’d constructed for himself. And none of the others knew…

A deafening yawn from Changbin broke the temporary silence. “I dunno about you guys," he slurred, “but I need a nap.”

“I think we could probably all use a bit of a break,” Chan said.

Jeongin suddenly bolted to his feet with an exclamation of “oh no!” The rest of the group turned to him with varying amounts of worry. “Seungmin won't be in my cabin anymore now that he's been claimed.” The rest of the group relaxed, some chuckling at Jeongin's pout.

“Don't worry, Innie!” Seungmin said. “I'll still swing by to make sure you're up for breakfast, and you're free to visit me at the Athena cabin whenever! Actually, would you want to help me move my stuff into my new cabin?” He turned to the group at large. “I'd be grateful for help from anyone, honestly. I may or may not have brought far too many books which are now tucked away in all corners of the Hermes cabin. I’d appreciate help in rounding them up.”

“Absolutely I can help!” Jeongin exclaimed, his former pout lost in a brace-filled grin.

“I can help as well!” Hyunjin added, and Felix was quick to also lend his support.

“I think I can make room in my schedule,” Minho grinned.

Jisung wanted to help too, he really did, but his body felt so slow, and the fluttering wings of worry were circling around his head. He'd probably be more of a hindrance than a help in this state. “Sorry Seungmin, but I think I also need to crash for an hour or two. I can help you organize later, though, if you want?”

“Don't worry about it Jisung! I've got plenty of help already.” Seungmin gestured to the four boys who had volunteered for book-cleanup duty with a smile.

“Then I think I'm also going to take a quick nap,” Chan said. “Good luck with the move!” Once Seungmin and the rest had taken off in the direction of the cabins, Chan turned to Jisung and Changbin. “Do you guys want to come to my cabin for Big Three nap time?”

“Hell yeah!” Changbin was quick to answer, giving Chan a cheeky grin when the other glared at him for cursing.

Jisung was a bit more hesitant. “Is that... okay?” He had been at camp long enough to figure out that campers were supposed to stick to their own cabins. He had also been at camp long enough to figure out that Chan, and those around him, were the usual exception to most rules.

“Of course! But if you want to sleep in your own cabin, that's totally fine too.”

“I usually crash in Chan's cabin,” Changbin stage-whispered conspiratorially. “My cabin has too many skulls for me to ever be comfortable there, despite how many years it's been.”

“I, um, I'd like to join you guys, then. Please.”

“Then follow me!” Chan led the way to his shimmering blue cabin, holding the door open for the other two boys as they toed off their shoes before stepping inside. Changbin immediately collapsed into one of the open beds, and Jisung figured he had unofficially claimed this spot in Chan’s cabin. Jisung picked his way over to the bed he had used that one night prior. He settled onto it carefully.

“I'm gonna crash now,” Changbin announced. “Feel free to talk or whatever, but I'm pretty much dead on my feet.”

“Ironic,” Chan whispered.

Changbin snorted lightly. “Ha ha, Chan. But seriously, I’m like two seconds from passing out. Night, guys.”

“Goodnight!” Chan replied, settling into his own bed as his eyes began to close.

“Night,” Jisung said. He shifted around in the bed, eventually wiggling his way under the covers and finding a comfortable half-curled position. He was asleep a moment later, the sound of the fountain lulling him once more into unconsciousness. This time, though, his sleep was not dreamless.

His dream was dark, and red, and he couldn’t remember most of it when he woke up, but he still knew what it was about. It was always the same thing: an overwhelming sense of panic, the colors, the fear. The overwhelming grief. After every instance of this dream, he would wake up crying. Sometimes it was just a few tears, squeezed from between shut eyelids as he panted harried breaths into his otherwise silent cabin. Sometimes it was crying in earnest, his cheeks slick and his eyes puffy. On a few occasions during his first couple nights at Camp Half-Blood, he had woken up sobbing, loud and uncontrollable. This time, the sobbing returned.

Jisung was shuddering, his face a mess of tears and snot. His breath was loud and wet and hitched on every other inhale. The moment he became aware of his state, he buried his face into his pillow and prayed that Chan and Changbin hadn’t heard him.

“Sung?” Changbin’s voice was husky with sleep and slurred at its edges. “Wha’s wrong?”

“Sungie?” Chan’s voice, too, was lazy with sleep. No chance that they would ignore him, then. Jisung kept his face firmly buried in the pillow, desperately trying to force the sobs back down into his chest. He was mortified and confused and hollow. His body shook with the effort of holding himself together.

“Jisung!” Chan’s voice was clearer now, and so was the “Sung!” from Changbin. In the next moment, Jisung felt the bed dip slightly on either side of him. Two pairs of hands began to rub gentle circles into his back and trail fingers through his hair.

“You’re here, you’re okay,” Chan whispered, over and over, as Changbin hummed something tuneless and soothing. Little by little, Jisung calmed. His sobs turned to hiccupping gasps of air, which eventually died down into shaky breaths. He kept his face pressed firmly into the pillow.

“Do you want to talk?” Chan asked eventually, his voice just as gentle as his hands as he continued his calming gestures. Jisung shook his head no. “That’s fine. You don’t have to.”

“We’re here for you. You know that?” Changbin tapped a little rhythm above Jisung’s left shoulder blade, and Jisung nodded.

“I’m gonna get you a washcloth, okay? It’ll be wet with saltwater, so don’t get it in your mouth.” Jisung felt the bed shift again as Chan presumably stood up. There was the sound of a drawer opening, some light rustling, and the interruption of the fountain for a half second. Then the bed dipped again and one of Chan’s hands returned to Jisung’s back. “Can you sit up?”

Jisung hummed in response, slowly rising onto his knees. He kept his face neatly tucked into his chest the entire time, letting his fringe shield him from Chan and Changbin’s eyes. When he held out a trembling hand, the wet washcloth was placed into it. He brought it to his face, wiping the gunk off in small, circular motions. By the time he was done, he was ready to face the others.

Jisung met Changbin’s eyes first. They were dark, and concerned, and understanding. _Changbin had nightmares when he arrived, too_ , his brain supplied, and the thought made Jisung a little less embarrassed of his current state.

“Nightmare?” Changbin asked. Jisung nodded, still not quite trusting that his voice would hold.

“I do think you should try talking to someone about them, eventually.” Chan’s eyes were also concerned, but still so kind. “It doesn’t have to be either of us, unless you want to. It could be one of the other boys, or Brian, or even some random camper. But talking could help.”

“Talking through my own shit with Chan definitely helped me.” Chan gave Changbin a light smack on the shoulder for the curse, but there was no heat behind it.

“I–” Jisung’s voice broke on the first syllable, which he figured would happen. Chan and Changbin’s hands paused momentarily in rubbing soothing circles into his back, then resumed with just as much tenderness. He cleared his throat and tried again. “I do want to talk. To you, and to the others.” His voice gained strength as he continued “I, uh, actually was planning to maybe talk with you all tonight, at the bonfire, but then everything happened…” He trailed off, letting his gaze drop down towards the sheets he was still half-tangled in. Judging by the shadows in Chan’s cabin, he had slept a good couple of hours, but he was still exhausted. When would he finally stop feeling so _tired_?

“It’s all on your time, Ji.” Chan gave his back one last pat before withdrawing his arm and checking his watch. “I think we have about a half hour until we’re supposed to meet up with Brian. The others will probably come knocking in 20 – Seungmin’ll make sure they’re on time. Do we want to go find them or chill here till then?” Chan extended the question to both Jisung and Changbin, but Jisung knew his answer would be the actual decider.

“Can we stay? Um, like this?” The bed Jisung was using was situated in a corner, and so Jisung maneuvered himself until he was leaning up against the wall, bedspread lying over his legs and plenty of room on either side of him. He looked at Chan and Changbin, half-hopeful, half-embarrassed.

“Of course!” Chan slid himself back until he was positioned on Jisung’s right, and Changbin followed suit to end up on Jisung’s left. They both leaned in, and Jisung felt safer than he had in weeks. He tilted his head back against the wall, murmuring a near-silent “thanks” that he wasn’t sure either of them heard. The three of them stayed like that for what could have been seconds or years, their breaths falling into rhythm as the fountain continued to gurgle in the corner. Eventually, a knock sounded at the door.

“Ready?” Chan asked. Jisung nodded, and the three of them stood and met the others outside in the late afternoon sun. None of the others made any comment on what Jisung was sure were his ridiculously red eyes, though Felix was quick to slide a hand into Jisung’s, and Seungmin and Hyunjin took up defensive positions behind him. Jeongin offered him a bright smile, free of pity, and Jisung was able to meet it with his own honest smile. Minho positioned himself at Jisung’s open side, and Chan and Changbin took the lead. Together, the eight boys made their way up to the Big House.

Brian was waiting for them on the porch. He smiled, and half-turned to walk through the door. “Let’s talk in the living room.” He led, and Jisung and the others followed.

Jisung settled himself on that same couch he had sat on so many days ago, back when he was still whirling from his cross-national journey and its dramatic conclusion. Like that time, Chan was seated at his side, his presence just as comforting and grounding. Now, though, there were six others clustered around Jisung. He remained in the center of their group, as if the others knew that he still needed the feeling of safety that came with being surrounded by familiar presences. Felix was seated at his other side, with Jeongin and Minho taking up spots on opposite ends of the couch. Changbin was lounging in a beanbag at his feet with Hyunjin right next to him. Seungmin perched on the edge of the couch, half-leaning against Minho. Brian stood opposite them, hands clasped in front of his body.

“You’ve all probably come to this same conclusion,” he started, and Jisung felt himself straighten a bit in his seat. By the shifting of the others around him, he could tell they, too, were just as nervously anticipating Brian’s words, “but I believe the Spartoi attack earlier today was likely the conclusion of Jisung’s prophecy. There’s no way of knowing for sure, but I believe that Jisung’s prophecy was an immediate precursor to Chan's prophecy; I think you all agree with me on this. And so, with the former prophecy finished, I believe the latter must begin.”

The atmosphere in the living room was tense. When Jisung glanced around at the other boys, he found them all paying rapt attention to Brian. The centaur let out a sigh, and Jisung’s head whipped back towards him.

“This isn’t the only thing I wanted to discuss.” Brian paused, his eyes searching the room, glancing off each boy before finally settling on Chan. “I don’t know how to phrase this other than like this: we had fewer campers arrive this year. Jisung, Jeongin, and Seungmin," his eyes traveled to each boy in turn, “were the only new demigods to enroll this season. However, I don’t think there were fewer demigods in general this year than in previous years.” Brian took a deep breath, his eyes returning to Chan. “I think there were demigods who did not made it to Camp Half-Blood.”

There was silence for a moment as the boys processed this information. Jisung surprised himself when he was the first to speak. “The monsters got to them first.” _Almost like me,_ he thought, and flinched. Chan and Felix pressed closer to him, as if they could sense where his mind had gone, and the others leaned slightly towards him.

“I believe so.” Brian’s words were heavy, and the air in the living room was heavy, and Jisung found he could not lift his gaze up from where it had dropped to his lap.

“How do you know this?” Seungmin's voice was sharp, and Jisung could picture his eyes: sharp as well, and narrowed as he parsed out necessary information.

“I don’t know for certain that this what’s actually happening. What I do know is that there have been more monster attacks this year than in the past couple years combined, and that the number of new campers is much lower than previous years. I was also recently informed that there have been more Giant sightings this year. The demigods these other Giants target will not be sons of Zeus.”

Jisung understood what Brian was implying, and that made him shrink back into the couch cushions. What if he hadn’t been a son of Zeus? Would he have been able to survive so long? Would he have even made it out of Malaysia? Would he have been found lying, still, next to his mother?

He cut off his own thoughts. _Later,_ he thought. Always later.

“There's something big going on.” Chan's statement was overly simplified, but undeniably true.

Brian nodded. “Much bigger than just Camp Half-Blood. Unfortunately, I can’t leave this camp unattended. The other members of my staff and myself must be here to protect the campers and try to determine how the Spartoi were able to emerge in the middle of camp.”

“And that’s where we come in,” Seungmin interrupted, “with Chan's prophecy.”

The mood in the room shifted again, this time to tense anticipation. The tension only grew at Brian’s simple nod. “I think the Spartoi are simply one piece of a much larger picture. It will be up to the eight of you to figure out what this larger picture is. I recommend you head to the underworld first; there is a strong possibility that the ‘final gate’ mentioned in Chan’s prophecy refers to the gateway between the realms of the living and the dead. Even if this is not the case, the kingdom of Hades might hold information on how the Spartoi emerged into Camp Half-Blood. Felix, your mother should be able to help you find the entrance.”

Felix nodded. “I’m sure she’ll visit later to check on me once she catches word of what happened this morning. But if she doesn’t, I can call her.”

“What about the ‘creeping mist’ that’ll be following us?” Minho asked.

Brian turned to him with sad eyes. “I’m not sure about that. There’s so much uncertainty surrounding all of this, and I hate that I can’t offer more clarity. But we do not have time to wait around and figure the pieces out; this morning’s attack made that much abundantly clear. Because of this, I need you all to leave tomorrow.”

“Tomorrow?” Jeongin exclaimed. His statement was followed by various uneasy murmurings. Jisung felt his own heart clench. Tomorrow… that didn't give him much time to prepare. His nightmares would almost certainly return in full force once he had left the safety bubble of Camp Half-Blood. Chan and Changbin had already witnessed the aftermath of a nightmare, and despite how they had reacted today, Jisung was sure they wouldn’t let him experience many more such episodes before they began to pry. And the others would be there to witness the aftermath, too! How would he explain himself to all of them…?

“Yes, tomorrow.” Brian broke through Jisung’s inner panic. “I’m so sorry this is so short notice, but we can’t wait. We can’t. We have to figure out what is truly going on as soon as we can so we can stop it and prevent any more attacks. I will prepare supplies for you all, but I recommend you spend the rest of today preparing what you will individually need. I also have my own preparations to see to, and so I must leave you be for now. If you have questions, you know where to find me. Otherwise, I’ll see you all tomorrow morning. May the Fates watch over you.” With that, Brian gave the eight gathered boys one last solemn look before retreating upstairs.

The boys were silent for a moment. Jisung’s heartbeat was pounding in his ears and he prayed that he wasn't on the verge of an anxiety attack. Maybe if he got some fresh air, it would alleviate...?

As if sensing his impending attack, Felix spoke up. “Improptu bonfire session?” His suggestion was met with a silent round of nodding. They all slowly picked themselves up and shuffled down the hill towards the empty bonfire area, settling into their customary circle at the fringes of the pit.

Now that they were here, no one seemed quite sure what to do next. Where would they even start? As Jisung looked over each boy in turn, anxiety still swirling in tight loops through his mind and stomach, he realized his ‘later’ would have to become ‘now.’ He trusted them. _God_ , he really did trust them, so much more than he had thought possible. But if he didn’t speak up, he’d be left trying to explain himself after the inevitable breakdown occurred. That would be infinitely worse than just talking now.

“So, um, I have something I want to tell you guys. It isn’t really related to the quest itself, but it is kinda related to the quest in general? I think it’s something you all should know before we leave tomorrow, though.”

“Shoot.” Minho gave him double finger guns, breaking the heavy mood a bit and drawing small smiles from the other boys.

Jisung felt a little of his anxiety flutter away. _Alright_. He could do this. “So, once we leave camp, that might dredge up some bad memories for me. And, like, cause me to panic and stuff. So, I just wanted to give you all a heads up about that. And, uh, maybe you guys could help? With the panic? If you’re okay with that, I mean.”

“Jisung.” Chan laid a hand on Jisung’s shoulder.

“We’re all here for you, _mate_.” Felix smiled at him from across the small circle. The other boys nodded, faces open and waiting.

“Could you give us a little bit of background on what might trigger an attack for you? That way we can help you better.” Seungmin said.

“Only if you feel comfortable with that!” Hyunjin added. “No pressure.”

“No, I want you guys to know. And it’d be nice to have help with… this.”

“We’re here for you.” Changbin repeated his words from earlier in the evening.

“Okay. Okay. Um, I guess I’ll just start at the beginning?” When Jisung was met with nothing but encouraging nods (and a thumbs up or two), he continued. “So, I was born in Korea, but when I was really young – like, 3 or 4 or something – my mom and I moved to Malaysia. She never really told me why, but looking back I’m guessing it had something to do with me being a son of Zeus. Maybe she was trying to protect me from monsters? I’m not sure…”

Jeongin took him trailing off as an opportunity to interject. “That’s so cool! How long were you in Malaysia? When’d you move back to Korea?”

“I, um. I didn’t.”

There was silence for a few moments as the others processed Jisung’s words. Seungmin was the first to speak, his own eyes wide as they met Jisung’s. “You mean…?”

“It took about five days of pretty much nonstop travel to get from Malaysia to Korea,” Jisung answered his unspoken question. The heads of everyone else snapped towards him, and he lowered his eyes back to the dirt at his feet. “It was a lot of train jumping, and long stretches in unused engine cars, and a lot of time to think and stuff. Once I got to China, I bought an actual train ticket. I didn’t have my passport on me, so up until that point I had to stowaway on trains to avoid border patrol.”

“You didn’t bring your passport?” Seungmin echoed, brows knit in confusion. The question might have seemed insensitive from anyone other than Seungmin, but Jisung could tell this was the other boy’s way of trying to understand what Jisung had gone through.

“I, uh, I had to leave in a hurry.” This, this was the part Jisung had been dreading. The reason why he had to leave. His mom.

Though he couldn’t know what Jisung was struggling with, Chan pressed down slightly on his shoulder. “Take your time.”

Jisung took a deep breath, letting it out slowly as he picked at his cuticles. Then he spoke. “Around mid-July, I got a text from my mom on my way home from school. It didn’t make much sense at the time. ‘Seoul camp hb.’ That was it.”

“Camp Half-Blood.” Jeongin whispered involuntarily, and then his eyes widened and his hand flew up to cover his mouth.

Jisung gave him a tight smile and a small “yeah” before his eyes locked once more on his feet. “I thought the hb stood for happy birthday at first, even though my birthday is in September and so was definitely not coming up anytime soon, but, you know. I was just happy that school was almost over and thought maybe my mom had saved up enough for me to go to Korea for summer camp, and yeah. I dunno. But then I got home, and the door was open, and–” Jisung was cut off by his own throat clenching, the words lost before they could leave his mouth. He glanced up at the other boys. Some of them seemed to have connected the dots between what he was trying to say. Chan’s hand was gripping Jisung’s shoulder tight enough to bruise. Minho was staring at him with wide, wide eyes, for once lacking even the barest hint of a grin. Seungmin was tugging spasmodically on his pants with white knuckled fists, eyes downturned. But the rest… They didn’t know. Not yet. Jisung had to tell them, and as he thought that, he realized he _wanted_ to tell them. He wanted people to turn to when the nights got bad, when something reminded him of his mom, when he couldn’t shake the feeling that there was something watching him, still.

He swallowed around the sudden lump in his throat and continued. “The house smelled bad. Metallic. The drawers in the kitchen had been pulled out and the pillows from the couch were half-shredded and there were just… puddles, everywhere, and they were red and my mom’s phone was in one and it was cracked and I didn’t see her anywhere.” Jisung couldn’t get his voice above a whisper, but the early evening was quiet. The others heard. “I only made it a couple steps into the kitchen when something moved a pillow in the living room, and then I was running, and I knew I was being followed by something, but I couldn’t see it. I just knew. I kept running, and running, and then I jumped off a bridge and onto a train because I realized the last thing my mom texted me was instructions to go to Seoul and find camp hb and so I did. And the thing followed me, or else it waited for me here, I don’t know, but it found me just outside of camp and somehow I fought it off and then you all arrived and you know the rest.” Jisung stopped abruptly and drew in a large breath. His words had come faster and faster the longer he talked, and he was sure he was near-indecipherable by the end of it, but he couldn’t repeat himself. Not yet, not when he felt so exposed in the muggy late-summer air.

“Jisung…” Hyunjin’s voice was raw, and when Jisung looked up he found the other boy had tears in his eyes. “Can I hug you? Like, is that okay right now, or…?”

Jisung nodded slightly, and then he was being wrapped up in the other’s long limbs. Chan’s hand was still on his shoulder, and from the corner of his eye Jisung saw Felix move. He felt it when the other boy latched onto his side.

“This is okay, right?” Felix whispered. Jisung could only nod in return.

“Me too?” Jeongin asked, and Jisung nodded again, and the younger boy laid himself gently across Jisung’s back, his arms wrapping around his midsection.

“Can the rest of us…?” Minho trailed off, and Jisung nodded yet again. There were tears slipping from his eyes, and he buried his face in Hyunjin’s torso. The other boy was shaking slightly, too. Jisung felt the hand Chan had rested on his shoulder wrap around his upper body, and then he felt three more presences add themselves to the cluster centered around where he was still sitting on his log seat. There were fingers in his hair that Jisung thought might be Minho’s, and there was a familiar beat being tapped against his back that was probably coming from Changbin. The sure hands smoothing over the wrinkles in his shirt had to be Seungmin’s.

Jisung wasn’t sure what the exact emotion he was feeling was, but he thought it might’ve been relief. Overwhelming, all-encompassing relief. None of the others had shied away. Rather, they were pressing closer, physically showing their support in a way words might have failed to enunciate. He was grateful, too; unspeakably so. He couldn’t give voice to his emotions, but he tried his best to push his feelings out towards the others. He thought they got it when he stood and the cluster opened up, only to reform into a tight circle, the crowns of each boy pressed up against the others. They were swaying slightly, arms clasped around each others’ shoulders. Little flowers began to sprout in the dirt at their feet, purple and pink and yellow blooms.

“Felix…” Chan mumbled, but his voice was light. Felix merely hummed in response, and the flowers grew taller. Jisung’s few remaining tears turned to light laughter as the flowers covered his shoes. He watched as the buds carefully wrapped around his ankles, and the ankles of the others around him.

“We’re gonna hero the heck out of this quest,” Jeongin vowed. Jisung whole-heartedly believed him.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you all for reading! Can you tell that I am a soft stan??? I just love my boys so much <3 <3 <3 
> 
> Next chapter will finally begin the main quest! Also don't get too used to me posting on Saturdays because eventually my inevitable tendency towards procrastination will catch up with me. You have been warned.
> 
> I hope you all continue to stay safe and sane in these weird times. Please, please, listen to the scientific community's guidelines on how to deal with coronavirus. Make sure you're fact-checking claims made by sources outside of the WHO, CDC, and other preeminent health-oriented organizations. Stay inside if possible, be kind to each other, and I'll see you all next week.


	10. Departure

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> We're back! Also can I just say thank you so, so much for over 1000 hits? That is incredible and I love you all so much and thank you so much for continuing to enjoy this story of mine!! Exciting news: we've now passed 100 pages of this thing in word! Which is already massive and I'm pretty sure we're probably not even halfway done? Buckle in, y'all, and I hope you enjoy this chapter!

The morning of their departure came quietly. Jisung, as always, woke with the sun. He had opted to spend tonight by himself in Zeus’ quiet cabin. Yesterday had been exhausting, physically and emotionally, and he’d needed time to recharge. The other boys had extended an invitation to stay in their cabins – even Changbin, who was frequently vocal about his dislike of the Hades cabin – but Jisung had refused them all with a small smile. He needed this one last night, alone, to take stock of himself. The other boys seemed to get it. Jisung’s heart swelled as he remembered their quiet promises that their doors were always open, should he need a change in scenery. The night had been peaceful, a stark contrast to the frenetic state of the day. Telling the others had helped. It had been that last little bit of Jisung’s protective walls, and now those walls were knocked down. That meant he was vulnerable, yes, but it also meant that the others could more fully reach him. He hadn’t realized how much he’d been floundering in open waters until he had seven pairs of hands helping him to stay afloat.

Per usual, Jisung was the first to the breakfast table. He brought his backpack with him; he had spent the evening prior carefully folding clothes – his orange camp tees, and a few everyday pieces Changbin’s mom had all but forced on him after his welcome dinner – and sorting through his few other possessions. The others would be bringing their own bags to breakfast, and they would pick up weapons before heading out.

Chan had explained the night prior how their weapons could transform into ordinary objects for easier transportation through the mortal world. His trident, for instance, would become a plain old fork, and Minho’s sword would shrink to a pen. This could occur, Chan had explained, due to something called the Mist. Jisung had heard the term thrown around a couple times prior but had never received a full explanation. Chan was more than willing to give him one, with some additional comments thrown in by the others, most notably Seungmin and Minho.

The Mist, Chan had explained, was a force that protected the world at large from the mythological world of gods and monsters. For instance, if an amphisbaena showed up in the middle of a public area – _which happened to me_ , Minho interjected – the general population would see a snake in its place. Demigods, and those others wrapped up in the mythological world, would see its true form. _It's been speculated that there are those out there who can control the Mist_ , Seungmin had added, _but those are just rumors_. Chan had further explained that the weapons used by demigods were made of a material called celestial bronze; harmful to monsters, harmless to mortals. _Since we're demigods_ , Minho had said, _we get the best of both worlds!_ Felix had helpfully added, _that means friendly fire is on_.

Jisung thought the stuff about the Mist and celestial bronze and all that might have been explained to him shortly after he’d first arrived at Camp Half-Blood, but those days were kind of a blur. He remembered maybe half the things he’d been told during that time, and the Mist and celestial bronze were not in the half that he retained. The other boys were more than willing to fill in any gaps that might remain in his education; even Jeongin was incredibly eager to field Jisung’s questions, despite the fact that the other boy had been introduced to the world of mythology only a short while prior to Jisung.

All the technical talk the night prior had been a good way of grounding himself after Jisung had spilled his heart across the dirt floor of the bonfire area. Reviewing what he had learned last night helped to ground him now, as he waited with an overflowing plate for Felix to stumble his way into the dining area. His near twin (a birthday coincidence which both boys had been delighted to learn about a week and a half into Jisung staying at Camp Half-Blood) popped into his line of site not a moment later. Felix’s usual bedhead was interwoven with little flowers. _Persephone must have visited_ , Jisung thought.

His suspicions were confirmed when Felix, two cups of coffee later, began carefully picking the flowers out of his hair. “Love my mom,” he mumbled, “but if we're gonna be facing monsters and stuff I can't have flowers scattered in my hair. Gotta be intimidating.” Jisung didn’t think “Felix” and “intimidating” could be used even slightly synonymously, but he supposed the other boy did have a mean glower when needed. Out of all of them, Changbin could probably do intimidation best, or maybe Minho. Jisung would probably place himself last on that scale. That was okay; hopefully he’d be able to use that to his advantage, if he ever got a hang of how his lightning worked.

“Do you mind?” Felix asked, gesturing with his fork towards Jisung's mountain of food.

“Go for it!” Jisung waited until Felix had started eating to dig in himself. He figured if he tried to match Felix bite-for-bite, or as close as he could get, that would probably be a healthy amount to eat. Plus, this way, it didn’t feel so much like he was eating but rather like he was tag-teaming a plate with Felix. For whatever reason, his brain was more chill with that explanation than the “needing nutrients to survive” logic he’d been trying to follow.

After he was a few mouthfuls in, Jisung set down the remaining half of his breakfast roll, and asked, “did Persephone tell you where to find the Underworld?”

“Yup,” Felix swallowed, nodding. Then his nose scrunched up. “Or, mostly?”

“Mostly?”

“Yeah. I’ve got, like, the general location? But she wasn’t sure where the actual entrance is. Turns out, when you’re a god, you can just kinda poof around at will. _Who’da thunk_.”

Jisung didn’t think those last bits were real English words, quite honestly. He certainly recognized zero of those syllables. Ignoring that, he asked, “so, where’s the general location?”

“Lotte World.” Felix’s face broke into an enormous grin. The name sounded vaguely familiar to Jisung, but he couldn’t quite place it.

“Lotte World?” Jeongin’s excited voice broke into their conversation as he bounded up to the table, bag swinging behind him. Seungmin tagged along behind him, wearing both a backpack and a sling bag.

“Lotte World,” Felix confirmed, before his grin grew somehow wider. “The entrance to Hell.”

“The entrance to the underworld is in Lotte World?” Seungmin asked, eyebrows crawling up his face.

“Um, sorry, but what the fuck is a ‘lot world?’” Three sets of incredulous eyes turned to Jisung.

“Language.” Chan appeared out of seemingly nowhere, Changbin close behind. They both had rather hefty looking bags. Jisung guessed that Changbin had spent the night in Chan’s cabin; there was no way he would be up so early otherwise. “Wait, what about Lotte World?”

“Lotte World?” Changbin blinked awake a bit more at that.

“No one’s answered my question yet,” Jisung whined.

Felix was turning to him, mouth opening, when Hyunjin crashed into the table. “Where we dropping, boys?”

“Hyunjin, you don’t even play Fortnite.” Seungmin said, mouth pursed.

“Okay, and…?”

“We’re going to ‘lot world,’ wherever the fu-uh-un place that is.” Jisung said, catching himself halfway through his sentence as Chan gave him a look full of ‘disappointed parent’ energy. Hyunjin let out a joyous whoop, pumping his fist a few times for good measure. Jisung was still overwhelmingly confused.

Minho arrived a moment later. “What is up, my demi-dudes?”

“Every time he says it, it somehow gets worse.” Seungmin lamented.

“Would you prefer hot young godlings, then?”

Chan interrupted before Seungmin could get another remark in, “Minho, you’re fashionably late today.”

“Emphasis on fashion!” Minho slung his bag down, turning around to show off the giant leopard crawling down the back of his bomber jacket.

“It’s the middle of summer.”

“It’s magically enhanced to be cool. Plus, it’s tight as fuck.”

“Language,” Chan sighed. His heart was only half in it, but Jisung admired how he still strove to keep the rest of the boys somewhat clean-mouthed.

“Where’d you get the jacket?” Jeongin’s eyes were wide.

“My dad! He popped by this morning and we had a little chat about nicotine, godhood, and other gateway drugs. You know, the usual. Oh, and he wished me good luck on our quest! Said he wished he could be more help, but he honestly knows jack-shit about what’s going on right now.” Chan didn’t even bother trying to amend Minho’s language this time, slumping in defeat into a seat beside Jisung at the table. Jisung gave his knee a little sympathetic pat. “Speaking of, where’re we headed this fine morning?”

“Lotte World!” Hyunjin and Jeongin cheered simultaneously. Changbin gave his own little “Lotte World!” as well, though his voice was still slowed and drowsy.

“Can someone please tell me what ‘lot world’ is? And also can we stop saying those words together so much ‘cause they’re starting to sound not real.” Jisung raised his voice to be heard among the clamoring of the others.

“Oh right you grew up in Malaysia!” Hyunjin remarked.

“Never knowing the magic of Lotte World,” Felix added with a wistful sigh.

“Perfect place,” Seungmin’s lips curved into a smile.

“For thrilling entertainment,” Felix, too was smiling.

“Fun and rides!” Hyunjin concluded with a cheer.

Jisung stared at the three of them blankly. “That explained nothing.”

“Not a single one of you three has ever been to Lotte World in your lives,” Minho said.

“I have!” Changbin cheered, drastically more awake now than he had been previously.

“Me too!” Jeongin added.

“Great! Then you can show us around!”

“Does anyone here actually remember the reason we’re going to Lotte World?” Chan’s exasperated voice cut through the building fervor.

“Oh. Right.”

“And Jisung,” Chan continued, turning towards him, “Lotte World is an amusement park-slash-mall-slash-hotel-slash a bunch of other stuff. But, it’s mainly known for being an amusement park. It’s got an indoor section and an outdoor section and is huge.”

“And it’s also got the entrance to Hell!” Felix added.

“Speaking of,” Seungmin returned to the task at hand, “where in the park is the entrance?”

“Um, inside? Probably?” Felix gave a little shrug. “My mom wasn’t too sure where the exact entrance was. As I was telling Jisung before all you clowns showed up, gods can just kinda pop in and out of places at will, so she never had much use for official entrances. But, she did know that the Korean entrance to the underworld was in Lotte World. Inside, she thinks.”

“She thinks?” Chan repeated a bit incredulous.

“Dude, Lotte World is massive,” Changbin said.

“Our quest is exploring a theme park, this rules!” Hyunjin exclaimed.

“Don’t we need to be quick, though? In, like, finding the entrance, so we can find out whatever’s going wrong?” Jisung’s hesitant voice broke through the newly burgeoning hype. He had no grand desire to tour Lotte World, even if he did think it would be fun to visit an amusement park. He knew next to nothing about the place. What he did know, and what had become lodged in the back of his brain, was that there were more Giants out there, and more demigods being pursued by Giants, and that this quest that Chan had been given so many years ago could possibly help stop those Giants from reaching those demigods.

“We do.” Chan’s voice was sure, and steady. The eyes of the other boys at the table had focused, and the giddy atmosphere from earlier had disappeared. Staunch determination was left in its place.

“How do we want to do this, then?” Minho’s voice was serious as he settled into one of the remaining seats at the table. “During business hours? After hours?”

“After hours would be preferable, but I don’t know how feasible that would actually be.” Seungmin was tapping one finger silently against the table, brows knit together. Jisung figured it was either a nervous habit or a way of centering himself as he determined the best course of action. “We’d have to break into the facility, which would already be complicated enough, but then once inside we’d likely have to contest with cameras and other means of security.”

“I could probably get us in,” Jeongin offered, “but I dunno if I could keep us off security cameras and stuff.” When Jisung and the other six boys turned to him, questions in their eyes, he offered a shy smile. “I’m good at picking locks. Like, really good – I’ve been practicing. I touch them and they just kinda… undo themselves. And I think it transfers to electronic locks?”

“Hermes, God of Thieves,” Seungmin stated, nodding once to himself. Jisung didn’t entirely get it, but he understood enough to realize that one of Jeongin’s demigod abilities was apparently being able to break into any place on earth. Which was cool, since it was Jeongin, but would be downright terrifying if it was literally anyone else.

“Maybe the Mist would obscure the cameras?” Felix offered, but Chan was shaking his head before the question had even finished.

“I don’t think it works that way. It’d probably disguise the door to the Underworld as something benign, but we’d most likely still be recorded trespassing. I think we need to go during the day. If we can’t find the entrance by the time the park closes, we’ll either hide somewhere until after hours, or Jeongin can break us back in. We could figure out the security stuff later, in that case.”

“Works for me,” Changbin said. The rest murmured similar assenting statements, Jisung included. He didn’t think his opinion should really be taken into consideration in the matter at hand – not that he had much of an opinion in the first place – but Chan placed a lot of value on each of the seven other members of his team. For as new as he was, Jisung was still a member of that team, and so he knew that Chan wouldn’t be comfortable proceeding unless Jisung, too, agreed to the plan.

Sure enough, Jisung saw Chan doing a quick headcount to check that everyone was in agreement before he nodded at them all. “Alright, then. It’s a plan.”

“Okay, children!” Minho interjected, clapping once to bring the attention to himself. Jisung refrained from pointing out that Minho, too, was technically a child. By the eyeroll Hyunjin was giving, Jisung figured the other boy was also a bit exacerbated by the statement. “Let’s finish our breakfasts,” Minho continued, “and get strapped the fuck up!”

“Language, for the love of the gods, _please_!” Chan near-begged. Changbin was muffling his laughter into a cup of coffee. Hyunjin and Seungmin had made a strategic retreat to the breakfast buffet, dragging Jeongin with them. Felix was openly laughing at Chan’s haggard face as Minho gave the older boy a self-satisfied grin. Jisung was laughing, too, but disguised the action by picking up his half-eaten roll and starting to quietly munch.

A strange sort of tension lingered throughout the rest of breakfast. Despite this, the occasion was just as chaotic as Jisung had come to expect (and, dare he say, to enjoy). A food item still got tossed (a roll this time, thrown by Seungmin at Changbin for a particularly cringy display of aegyo). An argument still occurred (between Hyunjin and Minho, on what was the proper way to wear a jacket if you weren’t actually wearing it – around the waist or across the shoulders). At least one episode of laughing-until-near-crying occurred (by Felix, as was the norm). There were many attempts to restore the peace (mostly by Chan, though Jeongin was the one who actually defused the potential food-fight after Seungmin’s roll toss). Jisung had yet to fully integrate himself into any one of these moments, but he was getting there. He joined the others in egging on Seungmin, and then Changbin, before Jeongin intervened. He listened with rapt attention to the rapid-fire arguments and accusations being flung between Hyunjin and Minho. He laughed along with Felix (albeit a little less intensely) at the dramatic conclusion to the argument wherein Seungmin proclaimed them both morons and stated that you shouldn’t even bring a jacket if you weren’t going to wear it normally.

Breakfast wound down, and though the good mood remained, so too did the tension. That tension only grew as the group moved towards the training grounds and the weapon racks. Everyone was more than aware that this would be their last stop before leaving Camp Half-Blood. Everyone was also more than aware that there was no definitive answer for how long they’d be gone from camp.

“We can take a little bit of time to call our parents, once we’re out of the camp,” Chan announced when they were about halfway to the training grounds. “If you want to. But we don’t have time to visit, even if they live in Seoul.”

Jisung felt his heartbeat stutter slightly, as it always did when he was reminded of his mom. The reaction wasn’t as bad, though, and was made even milder by Hyunjin and Felix pressing close on either side of him. Jisung had learned last night that they, too, had only their godly parent left, though their circumstances varied greatly from his. Still, Jisung felt comfortable – supported, even – by the simple act of Hyunjin and Felix stepping a bit closer to him. _Telling the others was the right decision_ , he thought.

The training grounds were completely empty when they arrived. It was still early, but not early enough. At least a handful of other campers, usually Ares or Athena kids, would be running through morning drills at this time. _The rest of the camp probably knows_ , Jisung realized, _and they’re giving us space._ It was nice – respectful – and it made everything seem a whole lot more real.

“Alright, gang,” Chan announced. “Get your gear.”

The rest of the boys instantly went to a specific weapons rack or drawer and began pulling all manner of equipment out. Jisung stood still, hesitating. Should he get a sword? That’s what he’d been using, and it had worked well enough yesterday, he guessed, but he still wasn’t comfortable with it. But he wasn’t comfortable with anything else, either, and he couldn’t very well go defenseless…

“Here ya go, Ji.” Minho broke into his musing, sticking a sword hilt-first into his face. “This one’s a bit shorter than the one you’ve been practicing with, but I think that might actually be better for you. Less unwieldy. If it doesn’t work out, though, we can switch; I can use that one or my sword, either’s fine.”

“Thank you,” Jisung said. His words covered more than this simple action, and Minho seemed to get that, giving him a wink and a grin before bounding back to the weapons rack and grabbing a slightly larger sword for himself.

A few more moments, and all eight boys were armed with some sort of weapon, each shrunken down into some benign household object. Minho and Jisung’s swords were now pens, Chan’s trident a fork, Seungmin’s spear a pencil, Changbin’s axe a keychain, Felix and Hyunjin’s bows were woven bracelets, and Jeongin’s collection of throwing knives and daggers were now a geometric necklace and a couple pins which he had attached to his shirt. Appropriately decked out, the boys headed for the main gates of Camp Half-Blood. Brian was waiting for them there, a small brown bag hanging off one of his shoulders.

“Boys,” Brian addressed them all, inclining his head slightly. “Are you ready to head out?”

“As ready as we’ll be,” Chan replied.

Brian nodded again, and handed the brown bag over to Chan. “The supplies I promised: cubes of ambrosia, to be used sparingly, plus a few golden drachma for an Iris call and some won.” Jisung had absolutely no clue about half of what was mentioned. Won he got, and ‘ambrosia’ sounded familiar. He thought that was the name of the cube thing Chan had given him immediately after the Giant attack. The rest might as well have been gibberish. Chan seemed to understand, though, and he slung the bag over his shoulder with a quiet “thank you.”

“Can I ask where you’re headed?”

“Lotte World.” Chan answered Brian’s question with a half grin.

Brian’s eyebrows shot halfway up his face. “I see. Well then, I think I packed enough money to cover the cost of tickets for all of you. I’m not sure how much will be left over, but you should at least be able to enter the facility.”

“That’s fine; thank you, really,” Chan repeated. “We’ll figure the rest out.”

“I’ll be here, if you need me. Best of luck, and may the Fates watch over you.” Brian gave them all one last fond smile paired with a half bow, before trotting back down the hill into camp proper.

Chan turned to the rest of them. “Well gang, let’s get this quest business running.”

“Quest time!” Hyunjin trilled, crossing the boundary out of camp with the same breath. The rest followed him, Jisung bringing up the rear. As he stepped through the archway, he rolled his shoulders back. This was it. There was a very real possibility that he would come face-to-face with some of his biggest fears in this quest. There was a very real possibility of injury, a very real possibility of worse. Yet, somehow, he found a small part of him was excited at the prospect of the quest. As he watched the other boys chatting in front of him, he found himself believing they would be successful. This group would be able to handle whatever was thrown at them, and Jisung knew he would do whatever he could to protect the others from harm.

Jisung’s optimistic mood lasted all of five minutes. He had been content to bring up the rear of their procession down the worn dirt road that led out of camp. Chan and Hyunjin were at the front of the group, Changbin and Felix close behind, and Seungmin, Jeongin, and Minho walking a few steps in front of Jisung. The others had seemed to sense that Jisung wanted these first moments to himself and had respected his decision to hang back alone. Now, though, Jisung was beginning to regret his solitary position. Something was _wrong_. The little hairs on the back of his neck had risen, and his skin was prickling in the same manner that it had when he’d felt the Giant’s eyes on him all those weeks ago.

Jisung stopped in his tracks, turning back and breathing out a quiet “wait” as his eyes scanned the last of the tree line behind him. The boys at the front of the group continued to walk, but Seungmin must have heard him or sensed his hesitance or something because he, too, stopped, causing Jeongin and Minho to stop along with him.

“Guys.” Seungmin’s voice was even but loud enough to get the attention of those at the front end of their group, who turned back to where the others had paused. Jisung was still scanning the tree line, desperately trying to figure out the source of his unease. This wasn’t just nerves from leaving the camp, he _knew_ there was something out there, watching them.

“Jisung?” Minho’s voice was cautious as he took a step towards the other boy. Jisung ignored him, continuing to strain his eyes in an effort to determine what was wrong. There had to be something…

 _There_. A section of space just above a thick tree branch was shimmering slightly. Although the space was far smaller than what the Giant had filled, Jisung knew that whatever occupied that area was just as set on harming him, and those with him. As he scanned his eyes across the other trees in the area, Jisung picked out a few more areas of shimmering distortion. His heart dropped into his stomach.

“Jisung?” Chan, too, had moved back towards Jisung.

When the rest of the boys also began to inch back towards him, Jisung saw the distorted areas begin to shimmer more intensely. One of the areas flashed slightly, and before Jisung fully knew what he was doing, he was spinning around and grabbing Minho’s arm, shouting “go!” as he dragged the other boy away from the tree line. He heard a harsh squawk, and from the corner of his eye he saw five knife-like feathers bury themselves into the ground where he had stood a moment earlier.

“Oh shit,” Minho managed, and then he took off in a near-sprint, their roles reversed as he dragged Jisung along behind him. The others were quick to join them as they ran away from the edge of Bukhansan National Park. The sound of flapping wings and the dull thud of feathers hitting the ground followed them.

“Stymphalian… birds…” Seungmin managed between harsh breaths. “Get… underground…”

“Subway!” Chan barked out the order, effortlessly swinging wide around a corner. The rest of the boys followed.

Minho had let go of Jisung by this point, and the two of them were sprinting side-by-side after Chan. The nearest subway stop was close by, thankfully, and in another moment all eight of them were taking the stairs two at a time down into the station. They hopped over the turnstiles, for once catching a lucky break as the security station was currently unmanned. Their luck held as a train was pulling up just as they reached the platform. It didn’t matter where the train was heading. It only mattered that it was taking them away from the birds. The boys piled into an empty cabin, only really settling down once the train’s doors had closed without further issue and they had begun moving away from the platform.

“What were those things?” Jeongin asked, eyes wide as he gripped one of the railings in both hands.

“Stymphalian birds,” Seungmin answered, slowly settling into a seat. “But, I don’t understand why they’d be going after us. They’re supposed to be kept by my mom!”

“Something is wrong.” Chan’s words, once again, were overly simplified but undeniably true.

“Very wrong,” Seungmin agreed. Felix and Hyunjin were both doubled over, trying to catch their breath. Minho was sprawled across two seats, eyes closed, as he tried to do the same.

Jisung found himself clutching a railing with white knuckles next to Changbin. “You good?” the other boy asked. Jisung nodded, a quick, jerky gesture, and Changbin bumped his shoulder with his own. “That’s some pretty incredibly eyesight you got there.”

“Yeah!” Hyunjin had evidentially managed to get most of his wind back. “How the heck did you spot those things? There was nothing there!”

“I, uh, sensed them? I guess?” Upon receiving confused stares from the majority of the others, Jisung elaborated. “I started feeling a prickling sensation, like what I felt when I was chased by the Giant. Back then, I couldn’t see the Giant, either, but there was this kind of… shimmering? In the place where the Giant was. That happened with these birds, too.”

Seungmin’s frown was deep. “This shouldn’t be happening. That Giant shouldn’t have been invisible, and these birds definitely shouldn’t have been, either.”

“There’s a lot happening that shouldn’t be,” Minho noted, cracking one eye open to stare at Seungmin.

“Well, hopefully we’ve lost them for now,” Felix chimed in. “Good catch, Jisung!”

“Ah, no problem.” Jisung ran a hand through his hair, praying that his ears wouldn’t start burning at such a simple compliment.

“Really good job,” Chan echoed, shooting him a smile before turning to the group at large. “Our plan doesn’t change. We’ll take this line to the next hub station, then disembark and redirect our course towards Lotte World. If we stay underground, we should manage to evade the birds. Since Lotte World is indoors, we should be able to avoid them there, as well. Our priority is still getting to the underworld as fast as we can. Everybody got it?” His question was met with a round of head nodding.

“Um,” Jeongin spoke up, drawing the attention to himself, “don’t you guys think that the birds were there on purpose? Like, they were waiting for us to leave Camp Half-Blood?”

Chan frowned. “I think you’re right. I think they were waiting for us. Actually, there’s a very good chance that whatever caused the Giant and the Spartoi also is behind these birds. But I also think, through this quest, we’ll figure out what that thing is.”

“Keep your eyes open for shimmering spots, like Jisung described,” Changbin added. “And stick together. No one goes off on their own, got it?” The boys responded with a chorus of “got it.”

“Should someone let Brian know about the birds?” Jisung asked. He was suddenly very afraid that another demigod would wander out of camp and be sliced to bits by sharp bird feathers.

“I’ll send a text to BamBam. Can’t send an Iris message inside like this, but BamBam sneaks out of camp, like, every other hour to check his phone. He’ll let Brian know.” As he spoke, Chan pulled out his phone and started typing.

“Three seconds in and this quest is already popping off!” Hyunjin exclaimed, but he was smiling. They had made it through the first challenge, no problem. Jisung found himself smiling alongside the other boy.

Chan, too, was smiling as he put his phone back in his pocket. “I just hope it stays calm for a little bit after this.”

As if respecting Chan’s wishes, the rest of the trip to Lotte World was uneventful. There were no further appearances of the Stymphalian birds, although all eight boys kept a rigorous watch for any shimmering patches of air.

Lotte World certainly lived up to the hype. Jisung was amazed when they had first reached the huge, covered complex. It was much bigger than he had been anticipating! He could see a network of rollercoaster tracks and what looked to be the top spires of a blue-roofed castle past the main building. Jisung was also more than a bit overwhelmed at the sheer number of people funneling into the park’s main entrance. It was summer, but he had still thought that the park might be a bit emptier given that it was a weekday. No such luck. Jisung felt his heart pounding in his throat, and pressed a bit closer to Minho and Changbin, who were currently flanking him. By focusing all his attention on them, and the others in his little group, he managed to keep his head down and his breathing steady as they made their way through the ticketing stalls and into the park.

Once they were standing in a little cluster off to the side of the main thoroughfare, Hyunjin asked “now what?”

Chan sighed. “Good question. Normally, I’d suggest we split into groups, poke around individually. But, given the circumstances I think it’d be best for all of us to stick together.” Jisung agreed with this sentiment 110%. He was already antsy just from being in a crowd of people this big, and the fact that they had already been attacked today had quadrupled his anxiety. One of the few things keeping him grounded was the fact that he was surrounded by seven others who he implicitly trusted to keep him safe.

“Felix, is there anything else your mom said that could help us narrow down our search a bit?” Minho asked.

Felix simply shrugged. “Sorry, guys. ‘Indoors at Lotte World’ was the best she could do. I’d let you all know in a heartbeat if there was more to it.”

“Alright, no worries. Let’s think about it for a bit,” Chan said. “If I were Hades, where would I put the entrance to my domain?” All eyes turned to Changbin.

“What? You guys do realize I’ve never met my dad, right? Like, I have no clue how his thought process works.”

“Yeah, but you share the same DNA!” Hyunjin said, before frowning. “Actually, maybe not? I have no clue how demigod DNA works. Don’t think I want to know, either.”

“The entrance would probably be someplace out of the way,” Seungmin said, getting the conversation back on track. “I don’t think Hades would want just anyone to stroll into his kingdom.”

“Yes, exactly! Great job, Seungmin!” Chan praised.

Jisung, who had spent the entire conversation up to this point scanning the area around him and the other boys – _just in case_ – let his eyes linger on a door marked employees only. “Someplace like that?” he offered, pointing to the door. Seven pairs of eyes followed his finger.

“Jackpot,” Chan whispered, smiling. “Jeongin, do you think…?”

“On it!” Jeongin walked over to the door, casting a surreptitious glance about him as he did so. The rest of the boys shuffled over to block any random passersby from spotting their youngest working his magic on the door’s lock. A moment later, a soft ‘click’ was heard, and Jeongin turned back to them, grinning. “Open sesame!”

“You beautiful little bastard,” Minho said, ruffling a very self-satisfied Jeongin’s hair.

Chan sighed, but didn’t bother correcting Minho’s language, instead gesturing to the others to quickly slip inside. Chan was the last of them to slide through, hot on Jisung’s heels. The eight of them now stood, silently shuffling from foot to foot, at the top of a staircase leading down.

Changbin was the first to break the silence. “Well, let’s go figure out where my dad put his secret door.” He started down the stairs, the rest following him.

The stairway ended at another door, and through this one they found themselves at the end of a long hallway with many other hallways sprouting off to either side. These were marked with signs like “The Conquistador” and “Camelot Carousel” and “Giant Loop.”

“Maintenance for the rides,” Seungmin clarified.

“Do you think the gate to the underworld is down one of these halls?” Jeongin asked, his eyes glancing from hallway to hallway.

“I guess the only way to know for sure is to check…” Chan trailed off, taking in just how much work was still left for them to do. Jisung was a bit disheartened thinking of how many rides they’d have to check. Still, at least now they were away from the throngs of people. His breathing was a bit easier, and his heartbeat had slowed some. That was good. Less people was good.

No sooner had he thought that, than a man emerged from one of the hallways close to them. He did a double-take upon seeing their little group, before turning fully towards them and beginning to shout “hey–!”

Before anyone else could move, Hyunjin was stepping to the front of their group, staring the employee dead in the eyes, and saying “We are allowed to be here. This is fine. This is allowed.”

Jisung couldn’t quite put a finger on it, but Hyunjin’s voice was… weird. Extra smooth, and almost satiny in texture. It relaxed Jisung, and from what he could see it had also relaxed the employee, who was now staring at them all with a dopey expression on his face.

“Of course!” The employee said. “How could I not realize sooner? Of course you’re all allowed back here!”

“Hyunjin, what…?” Felix said.

At the same time, Chan spoke. “Hyunjin, you can Charmspeak?”

Hyunjin ignored both of them, instead addressing the employee. “Yes, we are allowed back here. Now, could you please tell us if any of the rides here are related to death in any way, or the underworld, or Hades?”

Though Hyunjin’s voice remained steady and coated in something Jisung couldn’t quite place, Jisung could see how the other boy’s shoulders were shaking. Hyunjin’s back was almost unnaturally straight, his posture rigid and his ears bright red. Hyunjin was doing his best to ignore how every other boy in their group was staring at him with various levels of confusion.

“Well, there’s the ghost house over in Magic Island…”

“Not there.” Hyunjin interrupted, voice growing tense and clipped. The employee began to blink, slowly, confusion settling over his face. “I mean, I want to know if there are any rides here, in this building, that are related to death.” Hyujin’s words had grown soft and smooth again, and the employee’s face relaxed back into a look of complacency.

“Of course! Um… the Pharaoh’s Fury has a mummy in it? I think? That’s up on the fourth floor, though.”

“Anything down here?”

“No, I don’t think – oh! Actually, now that you mention it, we do joke about beating a dead horse every time we have to restart the carousel. That thing breaks down every other day. And the horses do look kind of like ghosts when the lights are off, ‘cause they’re all white and such.”

“Alright, well, anything else that you –”

Seungmin interrupted Hyunjin. “It’s the carousel.”

“What?”

“The door to the underworld is connected to the carousel; I’m 95% certain. I mean; ‘and I looked, and behold, a pale horse! And its rider's name was Death, and Hades followed him.’ Maybe it’s a stretch, but I really do think it’s the carousel.”

Hyunjin blinked at him. “Was that a bible quote?”

“Yes. Now get rid of this guy, and let’s go.”

Hyunjin turned back to the employee. “I want you to take the stairs behind me up to the main entrance and wait there for twenty minutes, okay?”

“Of course! Anything for you.” The employee slipped around the rest of the boys and through the door. The sound of his footfalls on the metal stairs echoed dully. Once he was completely out of earshot, Hyunjin sank into a deep squat, hands pressing against either side of his head.

“Hyunjin…?” Felix spoke softly.

“I’m good, I’m good, I – ah – just have a bit of a headache. Happens.” Hyunjin passed his words through gritted teeth. Felix hesitantly reached down and started running his fingers gently through Hyunjin’s hair. When the other responded positively to the contact, Jisung, too, reached down and started lightly massaging one of Hyunjin’s shoulders.

“Hyunjin, what did you _do_?” Changbin’s voice was half-incredulous, half-accusatory.

Jisung felt Hyunjin’s shoulder tense beneath his hand, and then the other boy slowly returned to a standing position. Hyunjin turned to face the rest. “I, uh. I…” He trailed off, staring at them with big, slightly wet eyes. Jisung offered him a hand, and Hyunjin grasped onto it with a grateful smile. Felix took his other hand. With a shaky breath, Hyunjin began to speak. “Once, before I came to Camp Half-Blood, I needed an extension on a paper. Like, badly needed an extension, and my teacher wasn’t giving me one, and I had asked multiple times, and the weekend was coming up, and I couldn’t afford to get a bad grade, and so I begged. But, it came out weird? Like, I asked, and my stomach clenched, and then my teacher just agreed to give me an extension for however long I wanted. Just like that. And then I got an awful headache after, and then I told my dad what I did, and then he dropped me at Camp Half-Blood.”

Hyunjin met Jeongin’s wide eyes, and panic seeped into his voice. “I never did it again! I promise! I wasn’t even sure if I’d be able to, but then the employee showed up, and I couldn’t let him raise an alarm about us, and so I just kind of spoke, and it happened. But I promise I’ve never done it to any of you guys! I promise!” Hyunjin’s hand was gripping Jisung’s so hard that Jisung’s fingers were beginning to go a bit numb. Still, Jisung didn’t try to let go.

“We believe you.” Chan’s words were so easy, so open. That must have been the exact opposite of what Hyunjin had been expecting, because suddenly his grip on Jisung’s hand went slack.

“You – you do?”

“We do,” Minho confirmed with a small, genuine smile.

“Oh.” Hyunjin fell silent, and a moment later Jisung noticed a few fat tears silently running down his cheeks. Before Jisung could panic, Chan was already swooping in, cradling the other boy in a secure hug. Jisung let go of Hyunjin’s hand, and the other boy wrapped his arms around Chan tightly. Jisung saw Chan whisper something into Hyunjin’s ear, and a moment later Hyunjin drew back, wiping his eyes on his sleeve and offering the rest a shaky smile.

“Sorry about that. I’ve just, I built this moment up – me telling you all – so much in my head, and I just never thought it would go like this. Just, so simple.”

Changbin gave a half-shrug. “We trust you, dude.” He tried for nonchalance, but the bright red of his ears betrayed him. Hyunjin’s answering smile was blinding.

Seungmin grabbed one of Hyunjin’s hands, giving it a light squeeze. “Ready?”

“Ready.”

The eight of them took off, following the signs that led towards Camelot Carousel. There were no further wayward employees to impede their progress, though there were a few close calls that required ducking into hallways and open rooms and praying that eyes would stay glued to phones. Eventually, they made it to the maintenance room for the Camelot Carousel.

Once inside, Jisung started scanning the walls and the various control panels in the room. _If I was a door to hell, where would I be?_ Around him, the other boys were similarly peering around the room and poking at various panel doors.

“Um, guys?” Jeongin’s voice called out from the back of the room. Jisung made his way over. Jeongin was staring at a panel that had been propped up against the wall. It looked like it had originally been made to fit onto the center pillar of the carousel. Its content, however, was a far cry from the whimsical scenes Jisung imaged currently decorated the ride.

The panel depicted a pure white horse, upon which a dark figure was seated. Another dark shadow hovered behind them. The ground at the horse’s feet was splitting open into a gaping black pit. Peeking out from behind the panel was the edge of a doorframe.

“It can’t be this simple,” Changbin said.

“I think it might be,” Chan responded. Together, the two of them moved the panel to the side, revealing a metal door.

“I got it!” Jeongin exclaimed, reaching out. After a few seconds of wiggling the doorknob back and forth, the door popped open in Jeongin’s hands. As the door swung wide, a set of stairs leading down into shadows was revealed.

“Do we just… go down?” Jisung asked hesitantly.

Minho shrugged. “Nose goes?” He moved a finger to rest atop his own nose. Jeongin, Hyunjin, and Felix instantly copied his gesture. Seungmin rolled his eyes, Chan sighed, and Jisung brought a hesitant finger up to his own nose.

“I’ll go first,” Changbin announced. “I should, right? Son of Hades, and all that.”

“I mean, that would make the most sense,” Seungmin said, and Jisung got the distinct impression that this was the outcome the other boy had been anticipating all along.

“That would be great! Thank you.” Felix smiled at Changbin, shuffling to stand behind him.

“Alright. Well, I can see in the dark just fine, but the rest of you guys might want to pull up a flashlight on your phone or something.”

At Changbin’s suggestion, Jisung pulled his phone from his pocked and flipped on the flashlight function. A couple of the others did as well. Their combined lights only pierced so far down into the darkness of the stairwell before the stairs melted back into the shadows.

“I’ll get the rear,” Chan offered. Jisung positioned himself beside Felix and close to Changbin at the front of the procession. Felix didn’t say a word when Jisung slipped his hand into the other’s, though he was quick to offer a comforting squeeze. The rest of the boys filed into groups of two behind them, with Chan bringing up the rear as promised.

“Everyone ready?” Changbin asked, glancing over his shoulder. Jisung nodded, and a couple of the others offered small yup’s and yesses. Changbin turned back to the stairs and took the first step down. “Alright. Let’s go visit my dad, I guess.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I apologize for the gross overuse of the phrase "Lotte World," but it had to be done. Hope you all enjoyed this first little taste of the actual quest! The plot will just keep unwinding from here, and I'll see you next week for the Underworld section!
> 
> Because I can, I'm gonna start doing some song rec's down here! First up is ["Deepened" by Brave Girls](https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=0_pC3KXT2r4), which has one of my favorite kpop raps, and ["Bad Habits" by Shaun](https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=eKNLp1xjdzI), which is the kind of song that I want to blast while driving down an open road with the windows down.
> 
> Remember to keep washing your hands, try not to touch your face, keep 6 ft apart, and socially distance yourself as much as possible. Remember to also pay attention to your mental health as well as your physical health; it's just as important, and it's incredibly easy to slip into negative headspaces in this current situation. Reach out if you need to! Do things that make you happy! I love you all, and I'll see you next week <3


	11. The Underworld

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hi everyone! A very happy mother's day to all the mothers and mother-figures in our lives! I definitely did not plan this, but the fact that this chapter is coming out on mother's day is a very happy coincidence for reasons that you will see shortly. Enjoy!

The staircase seemed never ending. Jisung and the rest had already been walking for some indeterminate amount of time (like five to ten minutes) and had yet to reach the bottom. Jisung had switched off his flashlight a while ago to conserve his phone battery, and now Chan’s was the only light illuminating their group. Changbin would periodically call out from the front of the group that there were no signs of the staircase’s end just yet. Jisung was starting to wear down, and the unchanging scenery around him was not helping.

One of the earlier things Chan had explained to Jisung about demigods was their increased physical traits, including endurance. This improved endurance had likely been the reason Jisung was able to run away from the Giant, and then keep running. It meant he was still able to function decently on little food and little sleep. It improved his ability to take a hit. However, demigods were still mortal. They still had mortal constraints, even if the limits of those constraints had been stretched. It had been a hectic two days for everyone in Chan’s quest group, and Jisung was starting to feel the effects of those days catching up to him. He was simultaneously antsy and lethargic, and his mind was running a mile a minute.

Something should have changed by now, right? The temperature, maybe? They were going down; shouldn’t it be getting cooler? The air should be staler, at least! But everything was so uniform, so repetitive.

“Can we pause for a moment?” Jisung asked. His question was directed at Changbin but applied to the group at large.

“I second the motion.” Felix came to a stop beside Jisung, perching on the same step. Their hands were still interlocked.

“Sure. I still don't see any change ahead of us,” Changbin said, turning around to face the others. Jisung watched the rest of the group shuffle to a standstill.

Chan stood a couple stairs above the rest, flashlight illuminating the worried faces of the other boys. Behind him was a dark wall of nothingness. “What's up, Jisung?” Chan asked.

“I think we're doing something wrong.”

“What makes you say that?” Minho’s voice was open, curious; no trace of accusation or impatience present.

“Just, nothing’s changing. Like, shouldn’t it be getting colder the further down we go? Shouldn’t there be _some_ sort of difference? Everything’s the same.”

“Huh.” Seungmin's tone was light, but his eyes were calculating when they caught the light from Chan’s phone flashlight. He bent to look at the stairs below their feet, taking out his own flashlight to better observe. “Anyone have a marker or pencil or something I could use to write?”

“I got you!” Hyunjin pulled a thick black sharpie out of a side pocket of his bag.

“Why did you bring that?” Changbin asked, tone somewhat exasperated.

“Well it's coming in handy now, isn't it?”

“Thanks, Hyunjin.” Seungmin plucked the marker out of Hyunjin’s hand before bending down to draw a large, dark star on the step he was currently standing on.

“What are you doing?” Jeongin asked.

“Testing a theory. Can we start walking again? Slowly?”

“Sure.” Changbin turned around and began leading them once more down the stairs.

Jisung thought he understood what Seungmin was trying to do. The other boy had his flashlight pointed down, his eyes firmly on his feet. Jeongin was hovering a careful hand by his shoulder, ready in case the boy should slip.

After another couple minutes of quiet, careful stepping, Seungmin cried out, “stop!” His flashlight was illuminating a black star drawn onto the stair he was standing on. It was identical to the star he’d drawn earlier.

“We’re looping,” Jisung said, his voice half a whisper.

“We’re looping,” Seungmin confirmed.

“Well shit,” Minho remarked. “What do we do?”

“I’m not sure.” Chan’s voice was tight, controlled. His face was cast in shadows as he stood behind his flashlight’s glow, but Jisung was near-positive that he was frowning.

“We have to break out of the loop,” Seungmin said. He ignored Minho’s muttered “obviously,” continuing with “I’m just not sure how.”

“Changbin, you can do stuff with shadows, right?” Felix piped up. “Can you, like, suck up all the shadows around us?”

“What, like a vacuum cleaner?”

“I mean, when you put it like that…”

“Wait, no, Felix might be on to something,” Seungmin said.

Felix turned towards Seungmin, surprise evident on his face. “I am?”

“He is?” Changbin echoed, just as incredulous.

“I can’t be positive,” Seungmin continued, “But I think the main thing perpetuating this loop are the shadows around us. Nothing’s really changing, and we can’t see anything. It’s all just shadows. There’s not even evidence of the door where we came in.” At that, Jisung instinctively looked up and back, past the top of Chan’s head. Seungmin was right. There was no distant pinprick of light to indicate how far they’d traveled. There was just blackness.

“So, what do you want me to do?” Changbin questioned.

“I mean…” Seungmin trailed off, glancing over at Felix. “Felix kinda covered it already.”

“You seriously think I should try sucking all the shadows up?”

“More like I think you should try to compress them into a small space; see if you can reveal what’s actually going on underneath all this blackness.”

“Vacu-Changbin!” Hyunjin stage-whispered, and then cringed. “I tried.”

“Not very hard,” Jeongin stage-whispered back. Jisung smiled to himself as Hyunjin huffed.

“I mean, I guess I can give it a shot,” Changbin said.

“You got this!” Felix gave him two thumbs up.

Changbin didn’t reply. Instead, he turned back towards where the stairs disappeared down into the darkness. He rolled his neck, cracked his knuckles, and stretched out his hands. As Jisung and the others watched, Changbin began to pull tendrils of shadow towards himself. These tendrils peeled off from the shadows surrounding the eight boys, swirling in slow loops to gather in a huddling mass just past Changbin’s outstretched hands. More and more threads of shadow were pulled from what Jisung assumed was the floor and ceiling around them, joining the growing mass in front of Changbin.

“It's working,” Chan whispered, pointing his flashlight up past Changbin’s head. A small section of ceiling tile had been revealed, dirty white and yet vibrant in comparison to the darkness surrounding it. Following Chan’s words, Jisung watched as Changbin rolled his shoulders back and squinted into the darkness ahead. There was the faint shine of sweat on his brow.

“You can do it,” Jisung whispered, wanting to help but not sure how. Changbin didn’t respond, but his fingers clenched slightly, and the shadows started peeling away from the floor and ceiling with an increased velocity.

Felix, who was close enough to hear Jisung’s quiet words, joined in with his own rowdy “woo, Changbin! You got this!” This prompted a round of cheers from the rest of the boys. Changbin stayed silent and refused to address them, though the tips of his ears were bright red. Still, he kept up the increased pace of shadow wrangling, pulling darkness quicker and quicker from a rapidly emerging ceiling and walls.

The last swaths of darkness to detach were pulled with some difficulty from ceiling light fixtures. As these shades swirled down to join the swirling mass just past Changbin’s hands, the area was illuminated by bright fluorescent lighting. Jisung instinctively closed his eyes at the sudden brilliance, but as he slowly blinked them back open, he was more than a little surprised to discover where they were.

It was a stairwell. Just a plain, ordinary stairwell with plain, ordinary stairs. Two plain, ordinary doors stood at the top and bottom of the singular flight of stairs. The boys were gathered halfway down the flight, clustered about the only abnormality in this scene: Seungmin’s lonely black star.

“This is it?” Minho asked, eyebrows raised. “ _This_ is the entrance to hell?”

“Dunno,” Changbin grunted, “but you better hurry up and find out.” As Jisung watched, a bead of sweat rolled down the side of his face and clung to the underside of his jaw. Changbin’s hands were shaking, and the shadows were starting to swirl wider and wider in their gathered mass.

“Through the bottom door,” Chan instructed. Felix and Jisung, the two closest to the bottom save Changbin, were quick to obey. They shuffled down the stairs together, disconnecting their interlocked hands to squeeze around Changbin.

“If it’s locked, let me know!” Jeongin called from behind them. Jisung could hear the pounding footfalls of the others making their way down the stairs.

“I’m last through,” Changbin said, still firmly positioned halfway up the stairs. Jisung granted Changbin one last look over his shoulder, before returning his gaze to the unassuming door in front of him. Jisung locked eyes with Felix, who nodded and grasped the door handle. Felix mouthed “one, two, three,” turned the handle, and flung the door open with ease. Jisung was a half-step behind him as they barreled through the doorway.

On the other side of the door was a very lavishly decorated reception room. The lighting was much darker than in the stairwell, and there appeared to be blacklights running along the intersection of wall and ceiling. Scattered about the space were couches and high-backed seats, all upholstered in a dark purple-black satin. One of the walls was primarily composed of an enormous fish tank. It was filled with small, neon colored fish that flitted between black plants and bleached skulls. A few of the fish were glowing in bright yellows and greens and pinks. Every so often, a dark shadow would pass through the fish tank, too quick for Jisung to really get a good look at it. He didn’t think the shadow belonged to a fish.

Another wall was decorated with a few large paintings. One painting was of a dark river; a singular boat was floating downstream, a robed figure clutching a swinging lantern its only passenger. Another painting depicted a cross-section of the root system of a tree with various elaborately interconnected roots burrowing through the soil. A third painting was a highly realistic rendition of a pomegranate, torn open and with seeds scattered about. The first painting unsettled Jisung, the second confused him, and the third made him so incredibly _hungry_. He quickly tore his gaze from that last painting, instead meeting what would have been the eyes of a well-dressed skeleton emerging from behind the receptionist desk on the other side of the room.

“How did you get in here while still alive?” The skeleton wasn’t moving its jaw, and yet it was undoubtably speaking to Jisung and Felix. Jisung’s hand latched back on to Felix’s, and he felt Felix squeeze back.

The skeleton was dressed in a sharp, black suit, somehow filling out the shoulders. Where its eyes should have been were two dark purple flames, each flickering slightly as Jisung assumed its gaze flitted between himself and Felix. The skeleton was also moving rather quickly towards them.

Jisung took a half step back, bumping straight into Seungmin, who had just crossed through the doorway and into the reception room. Behind Seungmin followed Jeongin, with Hyunjin and Minho not too far behind.

“What…!” the skeleton exclaimed, stuttering to a halt a few feet away from Jisung and Felix.

“What the fuck!” Minho exclaimed at nearly the same time, tugging Hyunjin closer to himself.

Chan was next through the door, near-instantaneously spotting the skeleton and quickly positioning himself in front of Jisung and the rest. “Who are you?” Chan asked.

“Who are _you_?” the skeleton countered. “How did you all get in here?” Jisung noticed that the skeleton had its hand positioned by its hip, as if readying itself to draw a gun. Except, there was no holster there. The only thing Jisung could see in the area by the skeleton’s hand was a rather shiny silver chain that connected to a pocket watch peeking out the top of a pocket in the skeleton’s suit jacket. Chan, too, had his hand by his hip, where Jisung knew his trident-turned-fork was stashed.

Before anyone else could move or speak, Changbin came tripping through the door and into Minho, who released his grip on Hyunjin to help steady him. As Changbin crossed the threshold, Jisung saw him lower his arms, and the mass of shadows exploded outwards. A moment later, the door was gone. In its place was a smooth expanse of wall. 

Upon catching sight of Changbin, the skeleton relaxed its posture. “Oh, of course. The boss’s son.”

“Excuse me,” Chan ventured, hand still hovering by his hip, “can you please identify yourself? And tell us where we are?”

If he had lips, Jisung was certain the skeleton would be smiling. As it were, the skeleton merely continued to grin its dead-man’s grin. “I am Charon. And, right now, we are in the Waiting Room.”

“…Of the underworld?” Chan ventured.

“Exactly.” Jisung knew Charon’s smile would be incredibly wide and incredibly disturbing. The blank skull face, however, was plenty disturbing on its own.

“Charon is the ferryman of the dead,” Seungmin informed the others in a low voice. “He brings departed souls from the land of the living into the Underworld.”

“Great! Then he can take us to see my dad.”

“On the contrary, Son of Hades,” Charon addressed Changbin, “I will be directing you back up to the land of the living, where you all shall remain until your soul sees fits to abandon your body.” Charon snapped his bony fingers, and the door reappeared in the wall behind the boys.

“Sorry, but no.” Changbin moved to the front of the group to stand beside Chan. “We’re here to see my dad. It’s important.”

“I am sure it is, Son of Hades. However, no living souls can pass through my waiting room. That is the rule.”

“Hyunjin,” Jisung heard Jeongin whisper at a volume barely audible, “can you, like, _y’know_ Charon?”

“I don’t think I can do it back-to-back,” Hyunjin replied at the same barely discernable volume. “Plus, he’s like, a god, or something. I don’t think I can affect gods.”

“To the demigods whispering amongst themselves at the back of the room,” Charon started. At his voice, Hyunjin and Jeongin instantly tensed. Jisung, too, tensed up despite not being the focus of Charon’s attention. “I advise you to refrain from any rash maneuvers. I can assure you that I am very old, and very powerful, and very dead. I have been managing souls for more lifetimes than you will ever know, and I would hate to see your own lifetimes cut any shorter than what the Fates have decreed.”

“Is that a threat?” Changbin’s voice was rough. Jisung knew Changbin was exhausted – he had to be, given his earlier manipulation of shadows, and that was on top of his battle with the Spartoi the day prior! – but he still presented himself to Charon as strong and ready to fight if necessary. It made Jisung stand up a little taller and gently tug his hand out from Felix’s. Just in case. Felix turned to him in confusion but, upon catching sight of Jisung’s face, seemed to understand. Felix gave Jisung a short, determined nod, and returned his gaze to Charon.

“It is only a threat should any of you take it as such,” Charon responded to Changbin’s question. His voice was relaxed, almost lazy. Jisung really, _really_ did not like this skeleton.

“Would you really ignore a direct request from the son of your boss?” Changbin asked, voice barely containing his temper. Jisung watched as Chan rested a hand on Changbin’s shoulder, squeezing lightly. Jisung couldn’t tell if the gesture was meant to be a warning, or an encouragement.

“Ah, but you are not my boss.” Charon’s voice was so smug despite his blank skeletal face.

“Hm, no. But I am.” A new voice piped up, coming from the wall with the paintings on it. In the painting that formerly depicted a pomegranate, there was now a lovely, familiar goddess smiling at all of them.

“Mom!” Felix cried, breaking into a gigantic smile.

“Felix, darling, how are you? Changbin, how are you holding up? How are the rest of my darlings?”

“It’s great to see you, Mom.”

“It is great to see you all as well. I heard about the Stymphalian bird attack and simply had to check in. Imagine my surprise when I discovered where you all were! Of course, given that it is summer, I cannot visit in person. But, I do have my ways.” Persephone turned her gaze to Charon, her eyes hardening and her smile dropping. “Now, Charon, please tell me why you are impeding the progress of my sons and their friends?”

“Goddess, I…” Charon trailed off, for once at a loss for words.

Persephone hummed. “Well, no matter. I command you to bring them to my husband, at once.” Persephone’s gaze grew unusually solemn. “We are on the edge of something, Charon. I do not know what, but I do know these boys are instrumental in bringing us safely to the other side. Thus, you, too, must ensure their safe passage to Hades.”

“I understand, Goddess.” If Charon was resentful, Jisung could not hear it in his voice.

Persephone returned her gaze to the boys. “Alright then, my loves. I do apologize that I cannot be with you in person, but I assure you that Charon will deliver you safely to Hades. Changbin, dear, try not to be too cold with him. He gets lonely, I believe.”

Changbin nodded, his eyes wide as he stammered out “uh, will– will do. And, nice to see you.” Persephone’s answering smile was warm and brightened the dim waiting room.

“Bye Mom! Love you!” Felix’s mood was incredibly bright compared to everyone else in the room, but Jisung appreciated him all the more for it.

“Goodbye, my Springtime Child. I love you through every season. Goodbye, everyone. Stay safe.” With one last fond smile, Persephone’s image faded from the painting, replaced by the pomegranate.

There was silence for a few tense moments, before Changbin cleared his throat and raised one eyebrow at Charon.

“Very well, then,” Charon said, voice carefully neutral. “Please, follow me.” He crossed the room to where the receptionist desk was located. With another snap of his fingers, a door appeared behind the desk. Charon opened the door and stepped through. Changbin and Chan followed him, with Jisung and Felix close behind. The others followed.

This new door opened into a large hall with a tall, arched ceiling. The hall was made of a dark, somewhat shiny material. Obsidian, maybe. Dark metal torches burning with the same purple flame of Charon’s eyes were spaced at even intervals along the walls. At the far end of the hall was a raised dais, upon which was seated a high-backed chair – really, more of a throne – with two golden, spherical objects at the end of the armrests. If he squinted, Jisung thought those golden objects might have been skulls. As the ceiling yawned over him, Jisung was left feeling incredibly small and incredibly insignificant in this echoing space.

As soon as the last of the boys were through the door, it disappeared behind them.

“Welcome,” Charon announced, “to the entrance hall of Hades’ palace. Normally, I would bring souls in a more roundabout manner, but, well. You are not my usual passengers.” He took off in large strides down the long hallways towards the dais, and the boys were left to scramble to catch up. Jisung’s hand had found Felix’s again, both seeking the comfort of another human presence in this land of the dead.

Charon brought them to a halt at the base of the dais. “The eight of you will wait here. I will go fetch Lord Hades. Do not leave this hall. This land was not made for those who still breathe. Am I understood?” Now that he was closer, Jisung could clearly see that the two golden objects were, indeed, golden skulls. Purple gems glinted in their eye sockets.

“Got it.” Changbin’s voice was light, but Jisung could see the way his hands were clenched and how his knuckles were turning white.

 _Changbin hasn’t ever met his dad_ , Jisung suddenly remembered. Actually, now that he thought of it, most of the boys had never met their godly parents. Minho and Felix had, obviously – Jisung himself had met their parents! – but he didn’t think any of the others had. That was… that wasn’t right, was it? He got that they were gods and probably had a million other things going on, but still. They chose to have children, despite all the danger that would result for those children. The least they could do was visit every once in a while.

The boys stood in silence for a while after Charon departed through yet another door he snapped into existence. Hyunjin, not entirely unexpectantly, was the first to break the silence.

“So, uh, how you doing, Changbin?”

“Fine. Nervous, I guess? Maybe a little nervous. But I’m fine.”

“You’re not, like, tired? From all the shadow stuff?” Jeongin asked.

“I mean, I am pretty wiped from that, I guess? But, also keyed up with the whole ‘meeting my dad’ thing that’s about to happen. It’s a weird mix.”

Felix nodded sagely. “Exhausted to the point of hyperactivity. Been there.”

“Whoa, dude, you sounded like Seungmin!” Hyunjin said, eyes wide.

“Hey!” Seungmin cried.

“I mean, he kind of did,” Minho added, shrugging when Seungmin turned to glare at him.

“It was the use of ‘hyperactivity,’ definitely.” Chan played along with the other’s jests. Jisung was fairly certain he was doing so to help keep the mood light. Still, knowing Chan, it was 50-50 that he didn’t just genuinely want to tease Felix.

“Hey, I can use big words! I use big words all the time!” Felix protested.

“Sure, Lix,” Changbin remarked, smiling. Jisung thought it was maybe the first time Changbin had smiled since arriving in the Underworld. Jisung wanted him to keep smiling, wanted the other boys to keep smiling.

“Actually, one time I heard Felix say ‘iridocyclitis,’ but I’m pretty sure he was just quoting that one Vine.”

As if on cue, immediately following Jisung’s words, Felix let out the most monotone “iridocyclitis” possible, sending the other boys – Jisung included – into small fits of laughter. Jisung felt proud of himself, proud that he had helped lighten the mood a bit. And, if he was being honest with himself, he missed this, missed being the one to crack bad jokes that others couldn’t help but smile at. Making people laugh had been something he prided himself on back in Malaysia. Now, even with everything that had happened, he could still make people laugh. That realization bowled into him with a force unmatched, and his hand tightened around Felix’s. The other boy gave his hand two quick squeezes in return.

As the boys’ laughter settled into a much more comfortable silence, Chan spoke up. “This is definitely not at all related to eerie-doe-cycle-less, or whatever it was that Jisung and Felix said, but, Changbin, if you’re really feeling drained from that shadow work earlier, you could take a little bit of ambrosia.”

“I dunno…” Changbin trailed off.

Minho stepped up, bumping Changbin’s shoulder. “One, you totally butchered that pronunciation, c’mon Chan. Two, I think that’s actually a great idea and Changbin could probably use a bit of a boost.”

Changbin blinked back at Minho, surprised, before turning to Chan. “Um, then sure? I guess?”

At Changbin’s tentative agreement, Chan slung the brown bag Brian had given him down off his shoulder and started rifling through it. A moment later, he pulled out a Ziplock baggie of small, shortbread-looking cubes. Jisung recognized them as the same thing Chan had given him following his encounter with the Giant.

“What do you think?” Chan asked Changbin. “A half? A quarter?”

“A quarter should be plenty.” Changbin took the small piece of ambrosia from Chan, quickly throwing it in his mouth. As he chewed, he grew slightly more alert. His eyes seemed a bit more focused, the shadows underneath them lesser. “I… feel much better, actually. So, thanks.”

“No problem.” Chan tucked the Ziplock back into the brown bag, before exclaiming lightly and turning to Hyunjin. “Hyunjin, how are you holding up? Do you need any ambrosia? I’ve heard Charmspeak can be pretty exhausting.”

“Charmspeak…?” Hyunjin echoed, voice uncertain.

“The thing you can do with your voice?”

“Oh! I didn’t know it had a name. I’ve, um, mostly tried to ignore that it was a thing I could do.” Hyunjin rubbed a hand up and down his arm self-consciously. Minho now turned to Hyunjin, bumping Hyunjin’s shoulder lightly with his own. Hyunjin offered him a small smile in return.

“We can talk about it later, if you like? I don’t know much, but I can definitely tell you what I do know!” Chan offered.

“I can help research!” Seungmin added.

“Thank you both! I’ll definitely take you up on that. And, Chan, I’m doing fine. The headache’s mostly gone, and I’m not super tired or anything.”

“Alright, just let me know. That goes for the rest of you, too.” Chan slung the brown bag up onto his shoulder once more.

“ _Aye aye_ , captain!” Felix cried, giving a sharp salute. Jisung instantly copied the gesture, and the two stood side-by-side offering mirror-image salutes. Chan just shook his head at them, sighing loudly for what Jisung could only assume was dramatic effect.

A moment later, Jisung noticed a dark cloud beginning to form upon the high-backed chair. “Look.” He drew everyone’s attention to the chair, and the other boys instantly straightened. Jisung and Felix released their grasp of the other, though they remained close together.

“Here comes my dad,” Changbin whispered. He positioned himself at the front of their group, and Jisung and the others shuffled around him to provide support through their presences.

A few more tense seconds passed, and then Hades was staring down at them from his throne. He didn’t say anything for a moment – just passed his gaze over the eight boys gathered before him. His face was blank; unreadable. He had dark hair and dark eyes and Jisung was more than a little terrified of him.

Then, Hades spoke. “It is nice to finally meet you, Changbin.”

Jisung could see Changbin’s eyes widen, just a bit. _He thought Hades didn’t know his name_ , Jisung thought. _Does Zeus know my name? Will I meet him someday, too?_

“Oh, um, it’s nice to meet you as well.” Changbin trailed off. He didn’t add a ‘father’ or a ‘Hades.’ Jisung guessed Changbin probably didn’t know which one was appropriate.

“It is nice to meet you as well, Felix.” Hades turned his attention to Felix. Jisung felt Felix stiffen at his name being spoken and moved marginally closer to the other. “Persephone talks about you often.”

“Nice to meet you, too,” Felix spoke clearly, articulately. Jisung suppressed a shiver as Hades’ eyes travelled over him and the rest of the boys. This was a stark contrast to how his meetings with Persephone and Dionysus had gone. Persephone had hugged him upon first meeting him, and she was warm and gentle and had that calming presence that Felix had inherited. Dionysus had popped into the middle of one of their after-bonfire session and had nearly given Jisung a heart attack, but he had been open and laid-back and shared Minho’s sharp-tongued brand of humor. Hades was none of these things. He was cold, closed-off, and had the hairs on the back of Jisung’s neck standing straight up. Hades was also, Jisung supposed, his uncle.

“You have quite the… friend group, Changbin. I see my brothers’ offspring are part of that group.” Hades’ eyes flitted to Jisung, and Jisung quickly broke the gaze. He didn’t care if that made him seem weak. Hades turned his gaze next to Chan, and then back to Changbin.

“Father,” Changbin started, and Jisung was surprised at his forwardness. Jisung didn’t think he’d be able to call Zeus “father,” but Changbin was brave. Changbin was meeting Hades’ eyes. “We have come to you with questions.”

“They must be very important questions, to bring you so deep into my realm.” Hades’ voice was stern, but Jisung could see the barest hint of a smile on his face. Was Hades… joking? Was this his way of trying to lighten the mood?

“They are very important questions,” Changbin agreed, a small smile on his own face.

 _Hades has spent uncountable winters with Persephone_ , Jisung mused. _That’s bound to thaw even the coldest of gazes._

“Then ask,” Hades commanded in a tone that was somehow just as inviting as it was authoritative.

Changbin did not waste any words. “Yesterday, Camp Half-Blood was attacked by Spartoi. They appeared in the middle of camp and were immediately set on doing harm to the campers. This morning, not too far outside the camp’s entrance, we were attacked by Stymphalian birds. Jisung–” Changbin gestured at him, and this time Jisung met Hades’ unreadable stare, “was pursued by a Giant before arriving at Camp Half-Blood around a month ago. Now, Brian has told us that there have been more Giants spotted, and there are fewer campers making it to Camp Half-Blood. Chan–” Changbin gestured, Hades’ eyes followed, and Chan, too, held Hades’ gaze, “received a prophecy years ago that we believe has begun to take effect. Our questions for you are as such: How did the Spartoi emerge in our camp, and why.”

“Are you blaming me for their attack?” Hades’ voice maintained its cool tone, but there was an undercurrent to it that had goosebumps sprouting on Jisung’s skin.

“Of course not. But Spartoi are of your realm.” Jisung couldn’t believe the tone Changbin was taking with Hades. It was light, conversational. It was borderline disrespectful.

To Jisung’s great surprise, Hades laughed. Actually _laughed_. “I suppose they are.” Hades stared down at Changbin in contemplation, a small smile on his face. “You do have your mother’s fire, I see.”

At that, Changbin straightened slightly. “Will you answer our questions?”

“I will. Though I am afraid you will not like my answers.” Hades’ small smile disappeared, and he sighed as he leaned back into his throne. “I am aware of the increasing frequency of monster attacks. I am aware of the return of the Giants. I am also aware of a… sickness, so to speak, that has affected the Mist.”

“What?” Jisung guessed that Chan spoke before he was aware of doing so, as Chan immediately shut his mouth afterwards. Jisung could hear the soft “click” of his teeth snapping together.

“There is something wrong with the Mist. It became obvious a little over a month ago, though I have as of yet been unable to discover the nature of this ailment, or what it means for the mortal world. I do believe, however, that this sickness is related to the increased monster presence.”

“What about the Spartoi?” Changbin didn’t interrupt, per se, but Jisung still nervously intertangled his fingers at the other boy’s question.

Hades, thankfully, didn’t seem to mind. “I believe the Spartoi, too, are connected to this problem. They are supposed to be kept in Tartarus, only able to be called forth through sowing dragon’s teeth, or through the power of one of my children.” Hades’ gaze towards Changbin turned pointed.

Changbin bristled. “You can’t seriously think–”

“I do not believe you called forth the Spartoi. But I also know that Tartarus is inescapable. Its barriers are strong.”

Jisung had no clue what “Tartarus” was. It sounded bad, though. A small tap on his shoulder drew his attention back towards the other boys. Seungmin was looking at him, eyebrows raised. “I’ll explain later,” he mouthed. Jisung nodded, grateful, and returned his attention to where Hades was once more talking.

“The fact remains that the Spartoi did end up inside the boundaries of your camp. Either they were drawn there by someone inside the camp, or the boundaries of your camp have weakened. Neither option is good.”

“No kidding,” Jisung heard Minho whisper, and his heart clenched for a moment. Either Hades didn’t hear Minho’s comment, or he chose to ignore it, his eyes remaining on Changbin.

“So what can we do?” Changbin asked.

“I would recommend investigating what ails the Mist; I believe within this inquiry lies the answers to many questions you might have. I regret that I cannot offer you more information on where or how to start, but I must conduct my own investigation into the barriers that bind those imprisoned in Tartarus.”

 _Tartarus is a prison?_ Jisung thought. _For who? Or what?_ He needed to speak with Seungmin, soon.

“So that’s all you can offer us? The fact that the Mist is sick, or something, and that maybe there’s something wrong with our camp.” Changbin’s voice was tight and barely controlled.

“You have also my temper, I suppose,” Hades responded. Changbin barely held back a scoff, though Jisung heard his intake of breath.

“Hades, we thank you for your time and your wisdom,” Chan spoke purposely for the first time, offering a slight bow to the other.

“Son of Poseidon,” Hades turned a calculating gaze towards Chan. “You might ask the sea what has been occurring in its waters. What happens on land is often mirrored by the tide.”

Chan offered another slight bow in response. Jisung had absolutely no clue what Hades had meant by his words, but maybe the other boy got it. There were so many things of which Jisung was unsure.

“I, uh…” Changbin’s brief burst of anger had died down. “I also want to thank you, Father. For your guidance.”

“I wish you and your friends the best of luck, my son.” Hades inclined his head ever so slightly towards the rest, and Jisung sensed how every boy around him – himself included – stiffened in place. With a snap of his fingers, a door appeared off the side of the entrance hall. “This will take you back to where you entered. Farewell. May the Fates watch over you.”

Jisung and the others began making their way to the door. Before any of them had reached it, Hades called out. “Han Jisung? A moment, please. Alone.” Jisung’s entire body froze. Felix shot him a worried glance, and Changbin laid a hand on his shoulder.

“You don’t have to,” Changbin murmured.

“The rest of you go on. I’ll be fine,” Jisung whispered.

“Jisung–”

“Please.” Changbin stared at Jisung a moment longer, then turned back to the door. The others slowly followed, giving him worried looks over their shoulders. When the last of them were through the door, Jisung turned to face Hades.

“There is someone who has been asking about you,” Hades said. Before Jisung could respond, Hades waved his hand, and Jisung’s mom appeared at the edge of the dais.

Jisung couldn’t move. He couldn’t blink, couldn’t think, could barely manage to keep breathing. His mom stood a few short paces away from him. She was smiling, slightly, and there was a faint luminescence to her. Jisung could see the blurred form of the dais through her body. But she looked just as he remembered her: a loose braid resting over her shoulder, her favorite button-up shirt hanging off her slight frame, her eyes. The same eyes Jisung that Jisung had inherited. The same eyes he had imagined on so many nights, staring blank and empty into his own. His mom’s eyes were full, now, and crow’s feet crinkled at their edges.

“Mom,” Jisung finally managed to whisper, stumbling a step towards her.

“My little lightning bug.” Her voice was so, so familiar, and Jisung crossed the distance between them, coming to a stop right before her with his hands hovering, outstretched.

“I’m afraid we can’t hug, bug,” she whispered, offering a sad smile.

“We can try,” Jisung replied, blinking rapidly.

“Stubborn as ever,” she signed, but her smile grew wider, and her arms came to carefully wrap around Jisung. She felt warm, but insubstantial, and Jisung could barely feel her presence. Still, he raised his own arms to wrap around her, hovering his hands at the boundary of her form.

“I’m so sorry for leaving you alone,” Jisung whispered. He couldn’t hide the tears dripping from his eyes into her shoulder, like he had done so many times previously. When he checked on the throne seated upon the dais, he was surprised to find Hades missing. The god had given him this moment in private, and Jisung was thankful.

“Bug, I’m the one who should be sorry. I should’ve told you everything, should’ve kept us in Korea, should’ve looked out for you better. _I’m_ the one who shouldn’t have left you.” Jisung drew back and was unsurprised to find tears in his mom’s eyes. They were really so alike.

“No, no, it’s okay, it’s not your fault–”

His mom hushed him gently, running a hand up and over his wet cheeks. Jisung could almost imagine the pressure there. “It’s not your fault either, Jisung.”

“Mom–”

“It’s not.” Her voice was firm and left no room for argument. Jisung’s face collapsed in on itself once more, tears falling faster.

His mom let out a gentle chuckle, reaching up once again as if she could brush the tears from his face. “Oh, my little weeping bug. We’re two peas in a pod, huh?”

“I missed you,” Jisung whispered.

“I missed you, too. I’m sorry I can’t be with you anymore; not like I used to be. But you’re always in my thoughts. I love you, so much.”

“I love you too. I’m sorry.”

“Jisung, look at me.” Jisung slowly drew his gaze up to meet his mom’s kind eyes. “This was not your fault. Please, bug, understand. You didn’t know. _I_ kept you from knowing. This is not your fault. Tell me.”

“I just…” Jisung trailed off. His mom’s gaze was firm. “It’s not my fault.”

“It’s not your fault,” his mom echoed.

Jisung felt light, lighter than he had in what seemed like ages. “It’s not my fault,” he repeated.

“It’s not your fault.” His mom leaned back, slowly untangling their phantom hug. “I can’t stay too much longer. It’s not very easy on the soul, holding a form like this outside where we’re meant to be.” She chuckled slightly, and Jisung found that he, too, could smile at a situation like this. “But I am always with you, bug… in spirit.” His mom’s grin was so wide, and Jisung actually found himself laughing at her terrible joke.

“Boo,” he retorted weakly, and his mom chuckled.

“Like mother, like son.” Her smile shifted to something small and warm and Jisung felt his entire heart swell. “I do love you, Jisung. So, so much.”

“I love you too. So, so much.” His mom slowly drew back. Jisung didn’t want to let her go. He had her back, now! He knew it was different. She couldn’t come with him. But, he wanted her too. Or, he wanted to stay. He wasn’t sure.

“They’re waiting for you.” His mom was smiling, and Jisung turned his head back to look at the door through which seven others had passed a few moments ago.

“They are,” he whispered.

“Tell them hi, for me.” Jisung turned back to his mom. She was still smiling, though she was starting to fade out. “And, thank them for looking after my son.”

“I will. I love you, mom.”

“I love you too, my incredible little lightning bug.” She was gone. But this time, Jisung thought he might be okay with that. He walked back over to the door and crossed through. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Again, happy mother's day :')
> 
> Today's song recommendation is ["Run Away" by Kim Jae Joong](https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=R9AmVWanPrY), which is a haunting song that's been intermittently stuck in my head for months now. 
> 
> Thank you all for continuing to read, and hope you all are continuing to do well and stay healthy and safe! My state has started easing quarantine restrictions, and I just want to remind everyone that easing restrictions is not the same as having a cure or a vaccine. You still need to try to keep 6 feet apart, wear a mask if possible, and wash your hands frequently. Stay safe everyone, and I'll see you all next week! <3 <3 <3


	12. Noodles and Planning

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hi everyone! Just a heads up that this chapter is kind of filler-y, but necessary. It does have some nice Jisung + Jeongin bonding, so hopefully you all enjoy!

As soon as Jisung passed through the door and into the carousel maintenance room, he had seven pairs of concerned eyes on him. Jisung knew his own eyes were red and puffy. He also knew that he was smiling far too widely for the concern of the others to linger. Sure enough, once they caught sight of his genuine smile, the faces of the others relaxed.

“You okay?” Chan asked, just in case.

Jisung smiled wider at them, a few remaining tears slipping down the sides of his cheeks. “I got to see my mom.”

At that, the semi-circle the other boys had tentatively formed around Jisung collapsed inwards. There were joyous shouts and eager questions and a few exclamations. Jisung couldn’t actually discern anything that was being said, but he understood the sentiment well enough, especially as the others clustered around him. The eight of them swayed in place for a few moments, hands clasped around shoulders and gripping arms and rubbing circles into backs. Then the cluster drew apart, transitioning into a tight circle.

Jisung turned his gaze to each of them in turn, smile still stuck on his face. “She says hi, by the way. And thank you, for looking out for me.”

“Absolutely we’re going to look out for you!” Hyunjin exclaimed. He had a few tears running down his own cheeks, and was pressed tightly against Jisung’s right side, his hand curled around Jisung’s hip in a loose hug.

“I'm really, really happy for you,” Chan said, offering Jisung a deeply dimpled smile from across the small circle.

“We all are,” Seungmin added, pressing closer into Chan as he blinked a little extra wetness away.

“Changbin, that was really cool of your dad!” Jeongin said, bumping into Changbin lightly.

“Oh, uh, yeah. Yeah, I guess it was.” Changbin offered Jeongin a small, warm smile, before turning to Jisung with that same soft smile on his face.

“I just really love you guys!” Felix exclaimed suddenly, tightening his grip on Jisung’s left hand.

“You all are some pretty cool kids,” Minho said, adding “and Chan is included in that ‘kids’ bit, facts only!” when the other gave him a rather forceful nudge.

“This is... really, really soft,” Seungmin said.

Hyunjin raised an eyebrow. “And are you complaining?” At Seungmin’s silence, Hyunjin’s grin widened. “That's what I thought.”

“Really though, thank you. From me, too. You all, uh, mean a lot to me.” Jisung said, ducking his head down as he felt the tell-tale tingling of blood rushing to his cheeks and ears.

“We’re the best quest group in the history of quest groups!” Jeongin trilled, braces flashing in the fluorescent lighting of the maintenance room.

“Speaking of,” Chan slowly began to widen the circle back out, moving carefully to avoid jostling Seungmin or Minho, “I think it’s time for another quest brainstorming session.”

“Preferably not in a place where we could be discovered trespassing by a random Lotte World employee,” Minho added, copying Chan’s movement backwards to widen the circle.

“I could probably... help, if we get caught again,” Hyunjin said, face growing serious as he, too, drew back.

“You don't have to, Hyunjin,” Chan said.

“But what if–”

“ _If_ we get caught again,” Minho interrupted, “then we’ll just play the ‘idiot teen’ card: ‘oh, I’m so sorry sir or madam or other, we’re just curious, rambunctious teens who found an unlocked door and decided to explore; of course we’ll leave right away!’ Now that we don’t need to poke around Lotte World any further, it’s not so bad if we get caught.”

“Okay,” Hyunjin agreed, face relaxing.

“So, where do we wanna go to brainstorm?” Changbin asked.

“Someplace quiet,” Chan replied. “I should probably also send a message to Brian; let him know what we learned.”

“There’s a park not too far away!” Jeongin said. “My mom and I ate lunch there a couple times after going to Lotte World; it’s got lots of quiet areas and tables and stuff.”

“Lunch would be good!” Felix said.

“Noodles?” Jisung suggested. His suggestion was met with a round of assent.

Chan nodded authoritatively. “Noodles it is, then. Noodles and planning.”

“Noodles and planning,” Jisung echoed. The smile was still on his face; smaller, now, but present, nonetheless.

The eight of them were able to leave the network of interconnecting hallways underneath Lotte World without incident. There were no stray employees or wandering security guards, and they emerged from the “Employees Only” door without any of the other Lotte World attendees noticing. They huddled back up in the same out-of-the-way area they had a couple hours earlier, and a quick Google search revealed a small noodle bar relatively close to the park Jeongin had suggested. They grabbed their bags from the storage lockers, and Jisung again wedged himself between two of the others – this time Changbin and Jeongin – as the group wrangled their way through the crowds and towards the exit. Though they kept an eye out for any patches of distorted air above or around them, there were no signs of the Stymphalian birds or any other hostile creature on their way from Lotte World to the small noodle bar. Thankfully, the noodle bar wasn’t crowded, and Jisung felt himself relaxing despite a few lingering nerves that prickled down the back of his neck as he placed his order.

Once they were all armed with steaming bowls and chopsticks, Jeongin led them to the nearby park. The park, too, was relatively empty. The spot Jeongin had picked out was a small picnicking clearing with two tables, which the boys quickly pushed together. It was surrounded by trees, with a small dirt path leading out of the clearing. It was secluded, and peaceful, and – in Jisung's opinion – perfect for their impromptu brainstorming session.

“My vote is noodles first, then planning,” Felix said, plopping himself down into one of the seats and hissing as hot broth spilled over the side of the paper bowl and onto his hand.

“I second the motion,” Hyunjin stated, sitting down next to Felix with quite a bit more grace.

Chan didn’t say anything in response, but he was already slurping up his noodles before he was even fully seated. The others positioned themselves around the picnic tables, Jisung settling into a seat beside Jeongin. He dug into his own noodles with gusto, relishing the spiced broth and the chewy udon he had chosen.

Approximately fifteen bites later, Jisung was starting to fill up. He had been hoping to make it through the whole bowl, or at least most of his lunch; he had, in actually, managed to eat around half of his noodles.

 _Shouldn't I be better,_ Jisung thought. He had seen his mom! He had resolved whatever lingering grief had been impeding his appetite. Hadn't he?

Jisung began absently swirling his noodles around in the bowl, trying not to make it obvious that his mood was dropping. He wasn’t seated next to Felix, who was talking with Chan at the other end of the table. Jisung was safe on that front. The other boys seemed to be enraptured by their own noodle bowls, and Jisung was seated at the end of the table, only next to Jeongin. Out of sight, hopefully out of mind. He could pretend-eat for another couple minutes, then be the first to get up and throw his bowl away. The others would be none the wiser. They didn't need to be worrying about him when they had much more pressing issues to discuss.

Jisung managed to get away with his swirling-noodles-in-lieu-of-eating plan for another minute or so before he was caught. Jeongin had leaned a little closer to him, whispering “you okay?” under his breath as he raised a clump of noodles to his lips.

Jisung was surprised. He thought that Jeongin had been too caught up in his own lunch and the thrill of everything that had been going on to notice him. Jeongin was new to this world of gods and monsters, just like Jisung. Jisung had led himself to believe that Jeongin was just as overwhelmed by everything happening; by this strange new reality they had been thrust into so suddenly. Jisung had led himself to believe Jeongin was distracted. Yet, Jisung himself – though certainly overwhelmed at times by everything happening around him – was nonetheless incredibly tuned-in to the moods of the other members of this quest group. Jeongin was evidently the same.

Jeongin leaned in again when Jisung didn't answer, his “you okay?” a little louder this time, but still soft enough not to be heard by anyone else.

“Um, I think I’m coming down off the high,” Jisung murmured in response.

Jeongin seemed to understand, his eyes worried but not pitying – just kind. “Do you want a little break?”

“What?”

“Just… follow my lead.” Jeongin then turned to the table at large. “I vote we get ice cream before we start discussing! I think we’ve earned it, and I know there’s a convenience store nearby.”

“Heck yeah!” Felix cried from the other end of the table.

“You all are black holes, I swear.” Chan said.

“Says the king of black holes!” Hyunjin retorted.

“My vote is yes to ice cream,” Changbin said. Minho and Seungmin also nodded in agreement.

“Great!” Jeongin sent a brace-filled grin to the rest of the table, then turned to Jisung. “Jisung, can you come with and help me carry the ice cream back?”

 _Oh._ That was Jeongin’s plan. It was subtle, and smart, and really, really thoughtful. “Um, sure. I can come with.”

“Great. Then, since we have cell service now, everyone should text me their orders!” As the others whipped out their phones, Jisung and Jeongin stood and shuffled their noodle bowls (one empty, one still half-filled) into the nearby trashcan.

“We’ll be back in, like, twenty!” Jeongin called over his shoulder. “Feel free to start planning without us.”

“We can wait!” Chan protested, but Jeongin was already heading down the little path out of the clearing. Jisung followed behind with one last wave. Chan’s cry of “be careful, call if you need to!” echoed after them.

The two of them walked side-by-side in silence for a few minutes. Once they had left the park, Jeongin spoke up.

“So, you wanna talk about it?”

“Huh?”

“Your mom. This quest. Zeus. Any of it, really.” Jeongin chuckled somewhat self-abashedly. “Honestly, I probably could use a bit of venting, too.”

Jisung’s steps slowed. Did he want to talk? He had been so happy to see his mom, and so elated coming out of that meeting that he had felt like shouting his joy to all who could hear. Then, reality had seeped back in, slowly but surely; his mom was still gone, he was still a son of a god, and there was some sort of world-shaking event on the horizon that the eight of them were apparently fated to resolve. No biggie.

 _But I’m not alone_ , Jisung reminded himself. He had been alone for that first life-altering event back in Malaysia. He didn’t have to be for the second.

“Talking might be nice,” Jisung eventually consented. Jeongin had slowed his pace to match Jisung. At Jisung’s words, the other boy skipped ahead a few steps, before catching himself and doubling back to walk alongside Jisung once more.

“Oh, thank god. Things are crazy, right? Like, everything happening right now is totally insane, right?”

Jisung chuckled lightly. “One hundred percent. Shit’s wild.”

Jeongin offered him a blinding, brace-filled smile in return. “I’m so glad you agree!” His face grew more serious, his eyes turning forwards. “But, really, I have been wanting to talk to you. About, well, all of this. I was the newest before you arrived, and even then I only really beat you to camp by a couple weeks. Seungmin was the new kid before me, but he already knew everything, so he didn’t really even count as a new kid. I just, I dunno. I still feel a little lost, sometimes.”

Jisung bumped into Jeongin lightly, offering him a small smile when the other turned to him. “I totally get that. It’s like; we were kind of just dropped into the middle of the deep end after, like, one swim lesson.”

“Exactly!” Jeongin proclaimed, “And now it’s sink or swim and I’m pretty sure sinking means actual, literal death.”

Jisung nodded. “Probably.”

“It’s just…” Jeongin paused for a moment, and Jisung waited for him to collect his thoughts. “The world was already so big, right? And now it turns out its much bigger and much scarier than I thought. And sure, parts of this are really cool – I’m, like, some sort of elite spy dude now, and you can shoot _lightning_ from your _hands_ – but I also maybe would’ve liked to have been given a choice in this whole matter.”

“Would you have chosen differently?”

“Probably not.” Jeongin offered Jisung a sheepish smile. “But, I still would’ve liked the option to choose.”

“I get that.” Jisung stopped walking, and Jeongin came to a stop beside him. They were about a block or so from the convenience store; Jisung could see its brightly lit sign shining out from a street corner a little ways away. He continued staring at it as he spoke, avoiding Jeongin’s eyes. “I’m not sure what I would have chosen, if I’d been given a choice. A big part of me would probably choose normalcy, and my mom. Actually, most of me would want to choose my mom. But then there’s a little part of me that… well, that likes feeling special, I guess. That likes feeling like a part of something; like I can actually make a difference in this world. Is that wrong of me?”

“I don’t think so.” Jeongin’s voice was soft, and honest. “I don’t think there’s a right choice, really. Things happen, and then we live through the consequences, good or bad. That’s life.”

“That’s life,” Jisung echoed. He brought his gaze down from the convenience store sign to meet Jeongin’s eyes. “I know one thing for sure, though: I’m so, so grateful I don’t have to do any of this alone.”

Was it sappy? Yes. Was it true? Also yes. Time and time again, Jisung was made aware of just how thankful he was that these seven other boys had accepted him into their lives so easily. Another moment presented itself right then and there, when Jeongin wrapped Jisung in a brief, yet warm, hug. Jisung knew the other wasn’t the biggest fan of open acts of affection, but here Jeongin was, in public, hugging Jisung.

“I’m grateful too,” Jeongin whispered, before pulling back. A light blush was coloring his cheeks. Jisung, too, was blushing lightly. Jisung didn’t really care.

The moment was broken by a thin, trembling voice asking, “excuse me, boys.”

Jisung and Jeongin turned to find an old woman slowly approaching them. She was bent over and using a sturdy cane to keep her balance. She had a large purse swinging from her shoulder, made nearly comical in size given her small frame. She was dressed in a rather lumpy sweater despite the heat; the garment looked handmade, if a bit shoddy. She peered over half-moon spectacles at Jisung and Jeongin. 

“Do either of you happen to know this area? I’m afraid I have gotten myself a bit lost.”

“I do, ma’am! Where are you trying to go?” Jeongin took a half step towards the old woman, hands hovering slightly in front of his body. Jisung, too, had moved towards the woman. She was so unsteady on her feet, and a fall at her age would be devastating…

“The tailor’s,” the old woman replied. “I know it is somewhere in the area, but all these little streets have turned me right around!”

“Oh, you’re not too far!” Jeongin exclaimed, offering the old woman a bright smile. “We can walk you there, if you like?”

“Oh, no, I couldn’t intrude…”

Jisung spoke up, offering his arm as he did so. “It’s really no problem, ma’am. We’d be more than happy to help.”

“Oh, thank you! Such sweet boys.” The old woman took Jisung’s offered arm.

Jeongin stepped a few paces in front of them, gesturing down a road in the opposite direction from the convenience store. “It’s a couple blocks down this way, ma’am. Do you want me to carry your purse?”

“No, no, it’s fine. I can manage this much; I’ve been carrying this old thing around for years!” The old woman laughed, and Jisung chuckled politely as well.

Jeongin offered another smile, before turning back around. “Follow me, then!”

The walk to the tailor’s shop was slow going. The old woman was not quick on her feet, but Jisung didn’t mind the leisurely pace. And besides, the woman was a great distraction. She was chatty, telling stories of how she used to sew all her own clothes, back before her eyesight started going and her hands started trembling. Now, she had to rely on a tailor (a word she spoke with no lack of derision). She also spoke with great fondness of her sisters and, upon learning that Jisung and Jeongin were only children, lamented this fact. She was in the process of informing them that brothers were made by much more than simply blood and coincidence when the three of them arrived outside the door of a rather unassuming shop marked simply with a needle-and-thread logo on the door.

“This is it! Thank you boys so much, really.” The old woman patted Jisung’s hand before releasing his arm.

“Do you want us to wait and help you walk back?” Jeongin asked.

“No, no, I couldn’t possibly take any more of your time. I think I can manage from here. I can ask the tailor for directions, if I need to.”

“If you’re sure…” Jisung trailed off, meeting Jeongin’s eyes. The other raised his eyebrows and shrugged his shoulders slightly. “Then, it was very nice to meet you, ma’am.”

“Glad we could help!” Jeongin added.

“You boys really are too sweet. Oh!” The woman exclaimed, before rummaging around in her purse. She brought out a small bag of yellow candies individually wrapped in plastic. “Please, let me offer a small token of my thanks.”

“Oh, we couldn’t possibly…” Jisung trailed off again as the woman held the candies out towards him.

“Please, I insist! You don’t have to have them now; save them for a special occasion! But, really, it is the least I can do.” She offered them both a warm smile.

“Then, thank you.” Jisung took the candies with a small bow. Jeongin also offered his thanks, and the woman’s smile grew.

“Such sweet boys! Thank you both, for everything.”

“It was our pleasure, ma’am.” Jisung replied.

“Absolutely!” Jeongin added. “Take care, ma’am.”

“You two as well.” The old woman gave them a little wave and crossed into the tailor’s shop.

Once the woman was gone, Jeongin turned to Jisung. “She reminds me of my grandma.” He was smiling widely, “Ice cream time?”

“Ice cream time.” Jisung tucked the bag of yellow candies into his pants pocket and followed Jeongin back down the road they had just walked.

They were able to move much faster, now, and made it to the convenience store in just a few minutes. Once arrived, Jeongin whipped out his phone and Jisung helped him pick out everyone’s ice cream requests. They paid – Jeongin beating Jisung to handing over the required won when the older tried to cover the cost – and began the relatively short trip back to the others, newly laden down with cold treats.

Jisung and Jeongin chatted on the walk back, but the topics of their conversation were much more benign compared to their discussion on the way to the store. They talked about the weather, Minho’s latest cat meme obsession, second-hand camp gossip (courtesy of Hyunjin), how absolutely insane Lotte World was as a concept. Simple stuff; easy stuff. It was really nice.

When they were about a minute away from the others, Jisung stopped Jeongin with a quick tug on his wrist. “I, uh, wanted to thank you. For doing this for me.”

“No problem!” Jeongin smiled at him. “Besides, Chan wouldn’t have let me go on my own, anyways, and I already told you I’d been wanting to talk to you. So it was win-win! You ready to head back to the others, though?”

“I am.” Jisung hefted the bag he was holding. “Gotta get these to them before they melt everywhere! Or before Felix starts a riot.”

“Both equally devastating.” Jeongin gave him a solemn nod, before breaking back into a grin. They set off once more, and shortly arrived back at the picnic clearing.

“Finally!” Felix cried as soon as they arrived. “What took so long?”

“Ah, we stopped to give someone directions.” Jeongin said. “But don’t worry, that was before we got the ice cream! It should still be frozen. Mostly.”

Jisung and Jeongin plopped their convenience store bags onto the middle of the table. The boys instantly fell upon the bags like a swarm of locusts, digging through the various desserts for the one they had requested. Jisung and Jeongin waited with matching bemused looks on their faces for the others to finish fighting over identical ice cream bars. Once things settled down, Jisung grabbed his own melon bar, and Jeongin the last remaining Jaws.

A minute later, while everyone was happily replenishing their sugar stores, Chan drew attention to himself by knocking lightly on the table. “Alright guys, I think it’s time to start brainstorming. I still need to call Brian, but I’d really prefer to make that call after we have a tentative plan to talk over with him.”

“Can someone do a quick prophecy recap?” Hyunjin asked.

Immediately, Chan replied “A creeping mist will follow eight, who must advance past final gate, to save a world where clashing sun, will bring down sky lest borne by one, then heavenly voices save or scold, and ensure peace through loss of gold.”

Minho gave him a few golf claps in response, which Chan met with a playful half-bow.

Seungmin popped his ice cream bar out of his mouth, his lips stained bright red. “I’m pretty sure the ‘creeping mist’ part relates to the sickness of the Mist that Hades mentioned. I also have a feeling that all of that is related to the invisible birds that attacked us once we were out of Camp Half-Blood.”

“That would certainly go along with the ‘following’ bit in the prophecy.” Minho spoke between bites of his own ice cream bar.

A few dots connected in Jisung’s mind. “Do you think my Giant also ties in? It was invisible, too, and was definitely following me.”

“But,” Felix started, lowering his mostly finished ice cream bar from his mouth, “that was _weeks_ before the Spartoi attacked and all of this started.”

Chan set down his own finished ice cream stick. “Remember, according to Brian, this has probably been going on for months. We just got clued into it now.”

The table fell silent. Ice cream melted slowly, forgotten, in hands.

“So,” Hyunjin tentatively spoke up, “what do we do?”

“That’s the million won question,” Chan sighed.

“I think we can check the Underworld off our list of ‘final gates.’ I dunno about you all, but I didn’t feel anything when we passed into the Underworld that would make me believe we had ‘advanced’ past whatever we were supposed to advance past,” Changbin said.

“Yeah, I think you’re right,” Chan responded. “So, we still have to figure out what the final gate is.”

“And be on the lookout for a ‘clashing sun!’” Jeongin added.

“The prophecy also mentioned ‘heavenly voices.’ Could that be referencing the gods?” Hyunjin asked.

“That… would actually make a lot of sense,” Seungmin said, turning to Hyunjin with a raised eyebrow.

Felix frowned. “But, it’s the ‘heavenly voices’ that ‘ensure peace.’ So, are we not even the ones saving the day at the end of everything?”

“Then why would Chan get a prophecy?” Changbin countered.

“Maybe we’re supposed to set something in motion that lets the gods fix whatever the problem is?” Hyunjin suggested.

“Like what? Are we supposed to bring down the sky or something?” Minho snorted. “This prophecy makes no goddamn sense.”

“I thought we weren’t supposed to try to decipher prophecies?” Jeongin asked.

Chan sighed again. “We aren’t. But we have to figure out enough to guess our next steps.”

“What about what Hades said?” Jisung spoke up. Though the words of Chan’s prophecy were branded into his brain (“Stuff like this just kinda sticks with demigods,” Minho had explained after Jisung asked about his sudden incredibly selective memory), he still wasn’t as familiar with the prophecy as the rest of the boys. However, the suggestion Hades made had bounced up to the forefront of his brain. When the other boys turned to him, questions in their eyes, he elaborated, “about asking the sea.”

“Oh.” Chan’s eyes were round. “I, uh, completely forgot about that bit.”

“You’re literally the son of the god of the sea.” Minho rolled his eyes.

“Hey!’ Chan protested. “There was a lot going on. It just… slipped my mind.”

“Well, it’s a good thing Jisung has a steel trap for a mind!” Felix praised, and Jisung blushed slightly at the compliment.

“Didn’t Hades also say something about investigating the cause of the Mist’s ailment?” Seungmin added.

“Yeah! And that, meanwhile, he’d be investigating Tar-tar-us.” Jeongin sounded out that last word, obviously unfamiliar with the term. Jisung was glad he wasn’t the only one confused about whatever ‘Tartarus’ was.

“It’s ‘Tartarus,’” Seungmin corrected Jeongin’s pronunciation. “Tartarus is, basically, Hell.”

“I thought the Underworld was Hell?” Jeongin gave voice to the same question Jisung had.

“Well, yes and no,” Seungmin responded. “The Underworld is where souls go after dying in this plane of existence. Tartarus is where the worst of those souls go. It’s in the deepest part of the Underworld.”

Jisung spoke up, “Hades said it was a prison…?”

“Yup. The gods imprison those that go against them there, like the Cyclops and the Titans and Typhon. Even the gods themselves can be imprisoned in Tartarus – Apollo was, once, though Zeus later freed him.”

“So, basically Tartarus is Hell,” Minho neatly summarized. Jeongin nodded in response, and Jisung murmured a quiet “got it.”

“Anyways,” Chan drew attention back to himself, “Jisung brought up a good point; I think I am gonna try asking the sea about what’s going on down there.”

“How?” Hyunjin asked.

Chan ran a hand through his curls. “I’m still, uh, working on that bit.”

“Maybe you can just walk into the water and commune with the waves like what happens in every mermaid movie ever,” Minho suggested.

Changbin shot him a look. “How many mermaid movies have you watched…?” Minho just gave him a lazy grin in response.

“Actually, something like that might work,” Chan mused.

“You can talk to water? How come you never told me!” Felix exclaimed.

“I can’t talk to water. I can, however, talk to the Nereids.”

“Sea spirits,” Seungmin said in response to Jisung and Jeongin’s blank looks.

“So, are we headed to the beach?” Changbin asked.

“We are,” Chan confirmed. “We’ll have to travel a little bit out of Seoul, find a quiet strip of coastline, and then I’ll, well, walk into the water, like Minho suggested. Hopefully, I’ll get some more info that’ll help us make a clearer plan, and then we can call Brian to update him and talk about next steps.”

“So, do the rest of us get to chill on a beach while Chan talks to the waves?” Felix asked. Seven pairs of eager eyes turned towards Chan.

“I’m not talking to the waves, but yeah, I guess you do.” Chan gave them all a large smile.

“Sweet!”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Again, sorry this was kind of a filler chapter. Next chapter should be a bit more exciting! It also might be from Chan's perspective, so get pumped for that all you Chan-enthusiasts (which is basically all of us at this point lmao). I'm gonna try to keep the chapters coming once a week, but things are getting busy both at work and as I focus on my med school applications, so there's a chance the next chapter might be late. Just a heads up!
> 
> This week's song rec is ["Hurt Locker" by 9muses](https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=sna6j078eOw), which is a peak summer bop (and I know it's not summer yet but today was 80 degrees so we're basically there already).
> 
> Also, can I say how hyped I am for a Percy Jackson television show approved by Rick himself??? I'm gonna have to buy a Disney+ subscription once it airs, rip my wallet. 
> 
> Hope you all are continuing to stay safe and healthy! Take care of yourselves, check in with others, and keep washing your hands! I'll try to get the next chapter up by the end of next week, but apologies in advance if I need a little more time. Thank you all for reading!! <3 <3 <3


	13. Shifting Tides

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Squeezing this chapter in before the end of the week! This one's extra special as it's from Chan's perspective; switching it up a bit :) Hope you all enjoy!

Of everything he had left behind in Australia, Chan missed the beaches most. Australian beaches paired soft, white sand with bright turquoise waters. Though it could get brutally hot during the summers, the ocean was always cool and welcoming. Chan wasn’t sure if his love of beaches was an offshoot of his upbringing in Australia, of his divine parentage, or a character trait of his own. Chan liked to think it was that last one.

Whatever the case, Chan missed beaches, especially Australian ones. He had visited the beaches outside Seoul a couple times - initially, it had just been Brian and him and maybe one of the other staff, though as the years progressed and the boys arrived, his beach trips grew a little livelier - but he had not yet been able to recapture that feeling of visiting the coastline near Sydney as a child. However, as he trundled towards Gyeongpo beach on a train with seven boys he trusted with his whole heart, a bit of that spark returned.

Chan cast yet another glance at the other boys, doing his third headcount in the past half hour. Minho was seated across the aisle from him, sharing a pair of headphones with Hyunjin as the two giggled softly over something on Minho’s phone. Cat videos, probably. Peering around the seat in front of him, Chan could see Felix’s face nearly pressed against the glass of the window as he tried to take in every last drop of scenery. Changbin was passed out in the seat next to Felix, mouth open slightly and arms crossed. _Good_ , he needed the rest. Seungmin and Jeongin were seated at a diagonal from Chan, talking in a low voice between themselves. If Chan had to guess the topic of their conversation, he’d pretty confidently say it was either speculation on the prophecy’s meaning, mythological terminology Jeongin was as-of yet unfamiliar with, or ways to prank the older boys. Actually, it was probably a combination of all three.

Finally, Chan turned his gaze to the quiet boy staring out the window beside him. Jisung, much like Felix, was seemingly focused on the landscape passing them by. However, Chan could see that Jisung’s eyes were slightly unfocused and that he wasn't actually tracking any of the scenery flying by outside the train windows.

“What’re you thinking of?” Chan asked in what he hoped was a soothing tone of voice. Jisung still startled, but he didn’t fall out of his seat (as Chan had seen him do previously when one of the other boys had suddenly appeared at their breakfast table), so Chan counted it as a victory.

“Oh, um, just the last time I was on a train like this.”

 _Oh, right._ Jisung’s last train journey had been during his days-long trip from Malaysia to Seoul. It probably wasn’t a very pleasant memory, but Jisung’s face seemed at-ease.

“Hopefully this trip is going better so far!”

Jisung smiled at him. “Much better.”

“Good. That’s good.” Chan trailed off, not quite sure how to prolong the conversation. Since learning of the passing of Jisung’s mother a couple days prior, Chan was unsure how to act around the other. He didn’t want to trigger a painful memory by accident or enhance the tremendous burden the other was already struggling beneath. Sure, Chan understood that he should probably treat Jisung basically the same as he had before learning of his mother, but he just _couldn’t_. Chan still remembered how overwhelmed he had been when he’d first learned of his godly parentage. It had been terrifying, moving from Australia to Seoul and leaving everything he had ever known. But he had gotten to say goodbye to his mom, and – better yet – she had followed him to Seoul a couple years later at the invitation of Changbin’s mom. Jisung too, had been abruptly ripped from his former life, but he’d been left to figure out the rest completely on his own. Chan couldn’t even begin to imagine the toll that would take on someone.

“Hey, Chan?” Jisung broke into Chan’s spiraling thoughts. Chan hummed in response, not quite trusting that his voice would hold if he tried to speak. Jisung continued, “have you ever met your dad?”

Chan’s thoughts froze. That was a question he certainly hadn’t been expecting. “Oh, um, no. No, I haven’t.”

“Do you think you’ll meet him today?”

“That would be something, wouldn’t it? Two of the big three in one day…” Chan trailed off, his gaze moving past Jisung and out the window, to the blurs of green brown and blue passing by. “I don’t think so, though. But that’s fine; I can probably get all the info we need from the Nereids.”

“Do you want to meet him?” Jisung’s voice was small. When Chan’s gaze cut back to the other boy, he was no longer looking at Chan. 

“I do.” Chan was honest. Jisung needed to hear honesty, he thought.

“I don’t know if I want to meet my dad.” Jisung’s voice was somehow smaller than before. Chan understood where Jisung was coming from. When he’d first been thrust into this world, Chan had resented the man who had forced him from his homeland, from his mother. He had hated Poseidon for having a child, and then he had hated Poseidon for never checking in on that child. Yet, as Chan had grown older and learned more of the world he was a part of, his anger had faded. He’d come to understand how the gods operated – how they needed to interact with humans to perpetuate themselves, and how, despite this, they could never fully understand the human experience. Jisung was still so new to all this, so young! And his introduction to this world had been less than ideal.

“That’s okay,” Chan eventually settled on saying. “And it’s okay if you never want to meet him, or if you decide tomorrow that you do. Whatever the case, I know Persephone would be more than happy to fill your godly parental needs. Maybe Dionysus too, though he’s kind of a wild card. And my mom and Changbin’s mom have already claimed you as their unofficial son, so…” Chan trailed off. Was that last part too much, too soon? But Jisung was smiling.

“Thanks. I, um, I’d really like to do dinner with them and the rest again. Once all this is over.” Jisung gestured vaguely around himself at the other boys.

“They’d love to have you.” The two of them lapsed into a comfortable silence.

The rest of the train ride was just as peaceful as the first half had been. The boys switched seats among themselves a couple times (with Changbin jokingly the butt of a ‘no one wants to sit beside you joke’ that ended in Chan abandoning his own seat in solidarity). A variety of topics were discussed, including but not limited to how bumblebees were able to fly (which Felix began with a loud “according to all known laws of aviation,” and it spiraled from there), a debate on cats versus dogs (spearheaded by Minho and Hyunjin, respectively), and a round of acrostic poems (which Jisung handily won, despite it really not being a competition). They even squeezed in a game of mafia, with Chan as the storyteller and Jeongin as the unsuspected-and-thus-victorious murderer. All in all, it was a nice break for the eight of them. Too soon, though, the train was pulling up to their stop, and the mood died down.

Chan herded the seven others out of the train, triple checking to make sure no bags (or, god forbid, one of the boys) was left behind. He then shepherded the others from the train onto the bus, and from the bus onto an empty stretch of beach away from any potential onlookers.

Felix went wild at the sight of water, tugging a rather bemused Jeongin behind him as he raced towards the surf. Jisung was distracted by the shells along the shoreline, and Seungmin had joined him in selecting the best-looking ones to shove into their backpacks. Hyunjin had whipped a beach towel out of his bag (and why in the gods name had that been in there?) and pulled Changbin down beside him so he could lean against the other boy. Minho lingered at the beginning of the beach beside Chan.

“Want me to take over wrangling them for a bit?” Minho asked with a grin.

“Please,” Chan responded.

Minho’s grin widened, and he turned towards the rest of the boys with a loud yell of “alright you lovely little shits!” Chan immediately regretted turning things over to Minho. “I’m in charge while Chan temporarily drowns himself, so no maiming and-or murdering each other. Other than that, go wild!”

“You’re the worst,” Chan told Minho as he placed his bag alongside the discarded bags of Felix and Jeongin.

“And yet you still love me,” Minho responded, adding his own bag to the growing pile. “Seriously though, don’t worry. I’ll keep a close watch on ‘em. Go commune with the water or whatever.”

“Stay safe,” Chan told Minho, before starting to walk towards the surf and shouting to the others, “I’m headed in! See you all in a bit.”

“You’re not taking off your shirt?” Jeongin asked as Chan passed.

Chan shook his head. “Stays dry; son of Poseidon benefits.”

“Cool,” Jeongin whispered as Chan reached out to ruffle his hair. (Chan couldn’t help himself.)

“Be safe!” Jisung called out behind him. Chan turned and gave him a two-finger salute which transitioned into a peace sign. Then, Chan turned back around and stepped into the water.

Most people would have difficulty walking straight into the ocean. Most people would be waylaid by waves, or tugged at by the tide, or at least meet _some_ form of resistance. Chan was not most people. The water accepted him easily, and in no time at all he was fully submerged. He continued walking along the bottom of the shore, getting deeper and deeper as he went. As he walked, he dodged a few stray pieces of kelp and offered a couple waves to some curious fish. When it started to get a little too dark for Chan to see clearly, he pushed up off the sandy floor and let the water continue to propel him forward. He wasn’t entirely certain where he would find the Nereids, but he was betting they probably wouldn’t be close to the shore.

After another ten or so minutes of progressing farther into the ocean, Chan stopped. _This should be deep enough._ He wasn’t entirely sure what he was supposed to do next. Should he just… yell? Would that work? Could he even yell while underwater?

 _Nothing to do but try_ , Chan thought. He opened his mouth, keeping the water from rushing to fill the opening with little more than half a thought. “Hello?” His voice was oddly muffled, but still somehow present. He didn’t think it had travelled very far, though. The water probably dispersed the sound waves or blocked them or something. Seungmin would’ve known, probably. Chan knew enough to realize that shouting into the water would not work.

Maybe he could just… think really loud? And the water would carry his intentions to the Nereids? Chan felt idiotic just considering the idea, but he really had no other options at this point. It wasn’t like he could comb the entire ocean for the creatures; they didn’t have that kind of time, and besides, Chan was pretty sure that if the Nereids didn’t want to be found, they wouldn’t. Chan might’ve been the son of the sea god, but the Nereids were of the sea itself.

Despite the fact that there was no one around to see him, Chan was still blushing as he thought as loud as he could, _hello? Um, Nereids? This is Chan, son of Poseidon. I was hoping to ask you some questions._ The ocean was silent for what felt like hours, but in reality was more like a couple minutes. Chan felt his face burning all the while. Then, slowly, shadows began to rise from the depths in front of him. The shadows solidified into shapes as they rose, which grew clearer and clearer until Chan could make out two beings.

The Nereids weren’t all that different in appearance from the Naiads Chan has become so familiar with back at Camp Half-Blood. The two before him appeared as young, beautiful women, their long hair and loose robes undulating softly in the currents. Their eyes were completely dark, just as the Naiad’s were, and Chan would guess that – should they open their mouths – their teeth would be just as sharp and pointed.

The taller of the two smiled at Chan. _Hello Chan, son of Poseidon_ , she said. Except, she wasn’t speaking. Her mouth did not open, and yet Chan heard her voice clearly. _I am Eudora, one of the fifty daughters of Nereus._

 _And I am Sao, another of the fifty daughter of Nereus._ The smaller Nereid also spoke without speaking. Chan figured they, like him, were pushing their thoughts through the water. He wasn’t quite sure how this was all working – he definitely wasn’t telepathic when he was back on land – but there were more pressing matters at hand than this newly discovered quirk of his.

 _Eudora, Sao, it is an honor to meet you_. Chan bowed lightly to the two Nereids, who giggled at him in return.

 _Likewise, son of Poseidon_ , Eudora said, hiding her smile behind a hand.

 _I believe you had questions for us?_ Sao asked with a giggle.

Chan straightened up. _Yes, I did. There are weird things happening on the surface world – increased monster attacks, beasts appearing where they shouldn’t be able to appear, an illness of the Mist. I was hoping to ask you how things were doing here, in the sea._

The faces of the two Nereids grew somber as Chan spoke. Eudora met the large, dark eyes of Sao, before turning back to Chan. _The waves have grown uneasy as of late._ Chan waited for her to explain. After another tense look shared with Sao, Eudora continued, _there have been rumors of creatures stirring in the depths; creatures that should have long stayed silent._

 _The smaller beasts have grown more active, as well_ , Sao added.

 _Is my- Does Poseidon know about this?_ Chan asked, catching himself. He wasn’t quite sure if he wanted to use “father” or “dad” or any such word for Poseidon just yet. Maybe someday. Maybe if he actually met the god.

 _Poseidon knows, but…_ Sao trailed off, turning to Eudora for help explaining.

 _The ocean is very large_ , Eudora picked up where Sao left off. _Though he is indeed master of the sea, he does not hold domain over all its creatures._

 _Do you know why this is happening? Why now?_ Chan asked.

 _We do not_ , Eudora replied. The eyes of the two Nereids were soft, and sad.

Chan cleared his throat. It was a useless gesture here, where he was not using his voice to speak, but still. The action comforted him. _Is… Is Poseidon here? Would I be able to talk to him?_

 _He has been called back to Olympus_ , Eudora said.

 _Just this midtide!_ Sao added, eyes wide.

_Midtide, as in, today?_

Eudora nodded. _No longer ago than a quarter of the sun’s passing._

Chan took that to mean within the past couple of hours or so. _Do you know why he left?_

Eudora levelled him with a stare. _He was called to the council of the gods._

Chan’s eyebrows shot up towards his hairline. _The council of the gods?_

 _Indeed_ , Sao confirmed.

Chan’s head was spinning. He had heard of the council of the gods before, of course, but it had never occurred in his time in Camp Half-Blood. He couldn’t even remember the last council of the gods he’d been told about. It was so rare for all the gods and goddesses to gather at Olympus, and a council only occurred when something big was happening. Chan had known something big was in the works, but he hadn’t realized it had gotten to the point where the gods had been called together. Had Hades found something wrong after they’d left? Had Persephone alerted the rest of the gods, or perhaps Dionysus? What had changed in the past couple hours?

 _Are you going to your father?_ Eudora’s question broke into Chan’s thoughts. Chan paused. Should he find Poseidon, or Hades, or Persephone or Dionysus? Chan knew none of the gods would be permitted to leave Olympus until the council was adjourned, so he’d have to go to them. He had no clue where the entrance to Olympus was in Korea. But Chan would find out. He had to; he and the rest of the boys were wrapped up in all of this somehow, and if the gods had encountered something big enough to draw them all together, Chan and the others had a right to know.

After deciding this, Chan returned his gaze to Eudora and Sao. _I am._ His determination abated as he somewhat shyly asked, _would either of you happen to know how to get to Olympus?_

Eudora smiled softly at him. _Unfortunately, we, nor our father, are not privilege to enter Olympus, or know of its entrance._

 _It is likely in someplace holy!_ Sao chimed in. _Holy, or else very important. The gods, after all, think very highly of themselves._ She offered Chan a somewhat crooked smile.

 _We are sorry we cannot be of more help to you, son of Poseidon_ , Eudora said, shooting Sao a glare. Sao nodded beside her, eyes wide and apologetic.

_No, no, you’ve helped a lot! Any information I can get on what’s happening is useful. And you’ve helped me figure out my next step!_

Eudora and Sao wore matching smiles. _I am glad, then_ , Eudora said. _I hope you find–_ Eudora cut herself off, eyes growing wide. Beside her, Sao, too, had grown still.

 _What’s–_ Chan started to say. He was cut off by Eudora.

 _You must leave._ Both Eudora and Sao moved towards him, their hands pressing firmly against his shoulders as they turned him back towards shore. _You must leave now! Hurry!_

“What–” Chan repeated, in his confusion forgetting that he did not need to speak using his voice.

 _Go!_ Eudora and Sao shouted in unison, giving him one last push before they melted into depths.

Chan was still confused, but he didn’t let that stop him from kicking off towards the shore. He thrust his arms out in front of him, hands overlapping, and pressed his legs together. He shot through the water, letting it sluice off his hands and around his body as it propelled him from behind. A moment later, Chan realized what he was fleeing from.

Something coarse and heavy slammed into the side of his left ankle, and Chan felt it give with a muted pop. He couldn’t scream underwater, but he still cried out, the sound lost in the waves. Almost as soon as the injury had occurred, it was soothed by the gentle press of water around the site. The pain eased up, and Chan felt strength return to the injured extremity. Through it all, Chan continued to press forward, adrenaline fueling him as he shot through the water with a renewed intensity.

When the creature attacked again, Chan was ready. The appendage – was that a giant tentacle? – rose up from the depths alongside Chan, aiming for his side. Chan was able to roll out of the way at the last second, and the appendage grazed his left flank. What he wasn’t prepared for, however, was the way the appendage instantly adjusted to his movement, following him and coming to wrap around his midsection. Chan was jerked to an abrupt halt in the middle of the ocean. The limb squeezed, and the air was pushed out of Chan’s lungs in a stream of small bubbles. No matter how he shifted and moved and pulled, the tentacle remained firmly wrapped around him, tightening further with every passing second. It was now beginning to drag Chan down and back, towards where he assumed the body of this beast lay in wait. The edges of Chan’s vision were beginning to go black, and his lungs were burning. He was certain that if he reached the body of the beast, there would be no escape. With the way things were going, he wasn’t sure if he would even make it that long.

Suddenly, a far-flung memory slammed into him. Chan was nine, and swimming off the coast of Australia. He was maybe out too far, but it was fine! He was a great swimmer, and it wasn’t even jelly season; nothing to fear. Then, a creature with the head of a jackal and the body of a fish had appeared, and it was faster than him, and its mouth was full of sharp teeth. The Ketea Inidkoi had chased him, but the water had aided him, propelling Chan forwards and reaching back to wrap tight around the neck of the beast, squeezing until it was no more.

Chan reached out now, willing the water to wrap around the tentacle, to press tighter and tighter even as Chan himself was constricted. A moment later, the pressure around his midsection loosened as the tentacle was cut off in a spray of thick, dark blood. From somewhere uncomfortably close, Chan felt the deep, pained rumble of a creature very old and very angry.

As soon as he was free, Chan shot off once more. His midsection was still throbbing, and his lungs were still heaving, but he couldn’t spare the energy to heal himself. Not now, not when he could feel the ocean shifting around something terrifyingly large as it launched itself after him.

 _The others!_ Chan nearly paused in his movement when the thought of bringing this creature closer to the other boys popped into his mind. He couldn’t endanger them like that! But Chan knew there was no way he’d be able to handle this creature on his own. If Chan didn’t come out of the water, the others would come in to find him, and the creature would be upon them before they were even aware of what was happening. Better, then, for Chan to reach the others first, and warn them. Maybe this thing would be weaker on land.

With this resolution made, Chan poured everything he had into reaching the shore. He needed to beat this creature, to warn his boys! He was getting close. He could sense the water growing more and more shallow, the ocean floor gently sloping upwards. He could also sense the creature following behind him, slower than Chan but still far too close for comfort. The world brightened around Chan, and he could see the shoreline growing close. _Almost…_

Chan burst from the water and stumbled into the surf, panting and looking half-crazed. He frightened Felix and Jeongin, who had been splashing around near the intersection of surf and sand. Chan couldn’t be bothered to say anything, his lungs still relearning how to function in the presence of air, but he grabbed Felix and Jeongin and pulled them towards shore. The tides continued to shift behind him, and Chan knew he didn’t have much time.

“Back!” Chan managed to yell. Minho had been scrolling through something on his phone from his seat on the beach towel next to a sleeping Changbin and Hyunjin. As soon as he caught sight of Chan’s state, Minho immediately shook the other two awake, pulling them up and away from the ocean. Seungmin and Jisung, who had been doing something over where the bags were lying in the sand, instantly popped up as well, taking a few haltering steps towards the others before realizing they should stay where they were at the start of the beach.

“Chan?” Felix questioned, almost losing his footing as Chan continued to drag him and Jeongin away from the water.

“What’s happening?” Jeongin asked.

Chan didn’t answer. As soon as he was sure the other two boys were able to move forwards on their own, he released their arms, pushing them on towards where the others were gathering at the bags. Changbin and Hyunjin were quickly coming out of their sleep disorientation, and Minho already had his sword drawn. Seungmin, too, was pulling his spear out, while Jisung looked largely confused.

Once Chan saw Felix and Jeongin safely deposited with the others, he turned back around, reaching out towards the water to try to hold the creature in place beneath the waves. It was no use; this thing was huge, and powerful, and intent on reaching Chan.

“Sea monster; get ready.” Chan had barely spoken, drawing his trident from his pocket, when the head of the beast broke through the water’s surface. The beast’s head was enormous, its mouth filled with yellowed teeth each roughly the size of a child. It had two wild eyes, slit-pupiled like a goat, or an octopus, which instantly locked onto Chan and the others. Swiftly following behind the head came roughly a dozen flailing tentacles, heaving the beast towards the shallow surf. Though it seemed hesitant to leave the water, the creature was nonetheless pulling itself closer to the shoreline.

“What is that?” Even though Hyunjin’s voice was shaking, he had drawn and notched his bow in one fluid motion. His hands were steady as he aimed at the creature approaching them.

“I think it’s a Ketos – basically a sea monster, like Chan said.” Seungmin’s voice was barely above a whisper, as if that would keep the creature from advancing any further towards them.

“What do we do? That thing’s huge!” Felix, like Hyunjin, had drawn his bow. Neither had fired, choosing to stare in thinly veiled fear at the Ketos. Chan didn’t fault their hesitation. Although he had raised his own trident against the creature, he very much doubted that it would have much of an impact. So, he let the trident fall from his hands, funneling most of his energy into slowing the progression of the creature. Under his command, thick whips of water were reaching up to ensnare the tentacles pulling the Ketos towards the shore. Chan knew he couldn’t hold the creature, but he would try to stall it for as long as possible.

“Perseus fought a Ketos once,” Seungmin said in response to Felix’s question. “He used the head of Medusa to turn it to stone.”

“I think we’re a little short on Medusa heads, try again!” Minho growled, his sword raised and at the ready as he moved to stand beside Chan.

“Changbin, stall with me,” Chan grunted out. The other boy instantly flung down the axe he had been readying, instead stretching out his hands to draw the scant late afternoon shadows forward and ensnaring the Ketos much as Chan had been doing. The beast slowed marginally more but was nonetheless still crawling towards shore.

“Hyunjin, Felix; the eyes!” Seungmin cried out. Chan could’ve hugged the other boy; the suggestion was brilliant. At Seungmin’s command, both Felix and Hyunjin aimed their bows.

“I’ve got right,” Felix grunted, bringing his hand back along the side of his face.

“Then I’m left,” Hyunjin responded, copying Felix’s action. Without another word, the two boys loosed their arrows in sync. Each found their home in one of the large, slit-pupiled eyes of the Ketos. The creature let out a near-deafening roar, its tentacles flailing for a second as it slammed them into the water. Its teeth were clashing, grinding against each other in a horrible screeching sound.

“Can we pierce its hide?” Jisung suddenly spoke up from behind the other boys.

Chan couldn’t afford to break his concentration to turn towards the other boy, but he did let out a questioning “Sung?”

“I think – no, I _know_ I can do something. Defeat it, I think. But there have to be gaps in its hide.” Jisung’s voice was more determined than Chan had ever heard it.

“On it,” Minho said in response, before he began tearing down the beach towards the flailing creature.

“Minho!” Chan yelled, but he was stuck in place. It was taking all his energy to contain the jerky motions of the Ketos; if he tried to chase after Minho, his water chains would break, and the boy would be placed into even more danger.

“I’ll help him!” Jeongin cried, rushing after the older boy.

“Jeongin, no!” Chan remained powerless to stop the youngest from following Minho down the beach.

“Fuck,” Changbin ground out beside him, also trapped in place with the effort of holding the Ketos.

“I got them,” Seungmin’s voice was tense as he readied his spear and followed after Minho and Jeongin.

Chan hated this. He felt so _powerless_ , unable to do anything but watch as three of his boys barreled towards a beast the size of a small house. What could their weapons do against something like that? All Chan could do was try to suppress the wild limbs of the Ketos as best he could, and trust that his boys would come out of this okay.

“Hyunjin and I can try to poke some holes in the creature; distract it and keep its attention off the others,” Felix offered. Chan saw Hyunjin nodding in the corner of his eye.

“Do it,” Chan grunted.

“Hit it as near the water as you can get,” Jisung added on. Chan had no clue what the other boy was doing and couldn’t turn to check, but his voice sounded strained.

As Chan watched, Minho got close enough to one of the tentacles to cut a thick strip up its underside, dancing back as the appendage flailed and spit black blood everywhere. Was Minho… laughing? Chan’s heart was caught in his throat. His lungs were still burning, his midsection still so sore, but he couldn’t worry about that now as Jeongin approached the beast. _Thank the gods_ , Jeongin stopped a bit farther away from the creature than Minho had, flicking knife after knife into its underbelly. The belly of the creature, too, began to bleed. _Its scales must be softer there._ Seungmin had obviously noticed this fact as well, as he was carefully picking his was towards the blinded beast, his spear aimed at its underbelly.

Seungmin was far too close to the body of the Ketos for Chan’s comfort, and creeping closer still. Minho was continuing to hack and slash his way through tentacle after tentacle, drawing the attention of the beast as he went. Jeongin was nearly out of knives; the majority sticking out of the beast’s belly. Hyunjin and Felix had moved a bit down the beach, firing arrow after arrow into the beast. The water surrounding the Ketos was growing black with its blood, but it showed no signs of slowing its rampage. Chan could hear Changbin muttering curses beside him as the other boy worked on keeping the tentacles from crashing into any of the boys at the shoreline. Chan was beginning to tire out himself, and he could only imagine how Changbin was feeling after having wrangled shadows in the morning, as well. Jisung was worryingly silent behind him, still.

As Chan watched with worried eyes, Seungmin reached the body of the beast. With an incredible amount of precision, Seungmin jabbed his spear into the base of the Ketos’ throat, yanking downward messily to create a gaping opening that saltwater rushed to fill. The roar the Ketos let out at Seungmin’s action was horrible. It reared back and away from Seungmin’s spear. Then, it began to tip forward, the whole of its massive torso moving like a wall towards Seungmin.

Chan saw it happen as if in slow motion. Seungmin was moving backwards quickly, but not quickly enough to be clear of the crashing body of the Ketos. He would be crushed, Chan realized. If Chan loosened his grip on the other tentacles, they would likely crash into Minho, or Seungmin, or even Jeongin. Seungmin would be crushed, and there was nothing Chan could do but watch.

Minho was yelling and Hyunjin was yelling and everyone else was deathly quiet, deathly still. Everyone except Jeongin. Chan saw the youngest catch sight of Seungmin and the Ketos crashing towards him, and then Jeongin was no longer standing a couple paces back from the shoreline. Jeongin was now immediately beside Seungmin, latching onto the arm of the other boy. Chan blinked, and Jeongin was standing on the shore once again, Seungmin safely with him.

Jeongin looked just as amazed as everyone else. Then, with a brace-filled smile that glinted in the low evening sun, he cried, “guys, I’m fast! I’m really fast!”

“Hell yeah, Jeongin!” Minho shouted, slicing through another tentacle with a whoop. Chan couldn’t find it in himself to speak. He could only stare at the oozing body of the Ketos where Seungmin had stood a moment before. Where Seungmin would have still stood, if not for Jeongin.

 _Too close_ , his mind whispered. How had he let it get to this point? Seungmin would have died, and that was a thought Chan had to push far, far back into his mind if he wanted to keep the Ketos contained. But what more could he do, could they do? The most they had managed so far were two blind eyes, a few chopped tentacles, and some body wounds leaking black blood. It wasn’t stopping the creature; it was barely even slowing it. If this continued, more of his boys would be put into Seungmin’s position. Chan couldn’t handle that.

“Everyone out of the water!” Jisung’s sudden yell nearly broke Chan out of his concentration. His grasp on the water weakened for half a second, and the Ketos surged forward with a shriek. Chan quickly tightened his grasp on the creature, Changbin’s shadows coming to entangle the beast as well.

Jisung’s voice had been powerful, commanding. It was the voice of the son of Zeus. Jisung stepped into the edge of Chan’s peripheral vision, walking between Chan and Changbin and continuing forward towards the water. Jisung’s hands were sparking, electricity dripping from the knuckles of his clenched fists. Each step seemed to be a great effort for him, but he kept going.

“Everyone out!” Jisung shouted again, his voice strained. He continued his slow march towards the ocean. Jeongin was tugging Seungmin along behind him further up the beach, and Minho was close behind. Felix and Hyunjin each fired another arrow into the belly of the beast before also moving back.

Chan caught on to Jisung’s plan half a second before the other boy implemented it. As Chan watched, Jisung raised his arms towards the Ketos. With a harsh shout, a cracking arc of electricity jumped from his hands and hit the base of the Ketos where saltwater had been seeping into the many perforations along its torso. Lightning danced up and into each of the wounds that had contact with the water, and the Ketos screamed. A great surge of electricity entered the base of its throat, travelling through the gash Seungmin had created. The great body of the Ketos was thrashing desperately, its blinded eyes rolling back into its head. The water was sparking and the beast was crackling and its screams were all-encompassing. Then, the Ketos quieted.

As Chan watched, his breath caught in his throat, the Ketos slowly began to dissolve into fine golden powder. It settled on top of the waves, glittering brilliantly in the late sun. A moment later, Jisung dropped to his knees.

Chan was moving towards Jisung before he was even fully aware of the action, hands outstretched to catch the other.

“Saltwater’s a good conductor of electricity,” Jisung mumbled as Chan approached. “Learned that in chemistry.” And then the other boy slumped back into Chan’s arms, eyes fluttering closed. Chan held the passed-out boy tightly, the others joining him with exclamations of praise and worry, and watched as the golden remains of the Ketos were carried out to sea.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Eudora is the Nereid of the fine gifts of the sea; Sao is the Nereid of safe passage!
> 
> Hope y'all enjoyed this chapter! It was initially kind of a struggle to write, and then Chan got into the water and it all kinda flowed from there (pun definitely intended lol). We're really up in this plot now, folks!
> 
> Today's song is ["Gondry(공드리)" by hyukoh(혁오)](youtube.com/watch?v=u3RAU0T2RC4), which is a song full of good, chill vibes. 
> 
> I hope you all are continuing to take care of yourselves, both mentally and physically! Thank you all so much for continuing to read, and I'll see you next week! <3


	14. Ocean's Eight

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Apparently whenever I write an action chapter, I have to immediately follow it with a chapter that is 90% dialogue and ~feelings~, so enjoy I guess!

Jisung came to with seven worried faces hovering above his own.

“Oh, thank the gods,” Seungmin said upon noticing Jisung’s eyes opening. “If you’d been out for any longer, I think Chan would’ve tried to force-feed you ambrosia, and then you probably would have choked on it and been out for good.”

“He would’ve been fine,” Chan mumbled, and Jisung belatedly realized that his head was lying in Chan’s lap. One of Chan’s hands was running gently through Jisung’s hair. From the corner of his eye, Jisung could see Chan’s other hand clutching tight to Seungmin’s. The rest of the boys were clustered around them, kneeling in the sand midway down the beach.

“How’re you feeling, Sung?” Changbin’s voice was gentle.

Jisung sat up slowly, taking stock of himself as his did so. His body was sore all over, but it was the kind of soreness experienced after a good workout; not painful, but present. More than the soreness, though, was the fatigue. Jisung was _tired_ ; he was nearly as bone-deep exhausted as he’d been the day he’d ran away from his home in Malaysia. He conveyed as much to the other boys, and Changbin nodded solemnly in response.

“Power fatigue. Still happens to me if I stretch myself a bit too thin.”

“You’re not hurt though, right?” Felix’s anxious voice butted in.

“Nope. A little sore, but nothing bad. Mostly just tired.”

“Is anyone else injured?” Chan asked.

Minho rolled his eyes, the corners of his lips quirking upwards. “Chan, you’ve asked us this, like, four times while we were waiting for Jisung to wake up. The answer is still no.”

“Yeah! We’re all good!” Jeongin shot Chan a thumbs-up.

“Are _you_ injured?” Hyunjin countered, raising one perfect brow. Jisung turned to face Chan and noticed the way Chan was avoiding the eyes of literally everyone else.

“Chan!” Felix protested, immediately reaching into the small brown sling bag and pulling out the baggie of ambrosia cubes. He thrust the baggie towards Chan. “Here, take one! Where are you hurt? Was it the sea monster?”

“I don’t need a full one,” Chan mumbled, but at Felix’s glare, he broke off a piece of the partially-eaten ambrosia cube and popped it into his mouth, chewing and swallowing quickly. He held the other piece out to Jisung, who opened his mouth on instinct to accept. As soon as the ambrosia hit his tongue, Jisung felt a tingling wave of warmth seep through him. His fatigue resolved, and the ache in his bones alleviated.

“It wasn’t even that bad,” Chan continued after he had finished chewing, “Just some bruising around my torso from when I got grabbed in the water. And, I think the Ketos might’ve broken my ankle.”

“What?” Hyunjin screeched, instantly moving to gently feel around both of Chan’s ankles. Jisung, too, turned his attention to Chan’s ankles. He thought they looked fine. And, hadn’t Chan been standing on them, when the Ketos first attacked?

“Guys, it’s fine. I healed myself earlier, don’t worry.” At Chan’s words, Hyunjin relaxed.

“How?” Jeongin’s eyes were wide. Seungmin, too, was looking at Chan in confusion; Jisung was once again glad he wasn’t the only one constantly out of the loop. Maybe Chan had a secret stash of ambrosia somewhere on his person, and he’d healed himself while underwater?

“Ah, I suppose our three newest boys wouldn’t know about this. As a son of Poseidon, I can heal myself through submerging my injuries in water. It takes energy and time, though, so I didn’t bother healing my midsection. It was more important for me to get back to warn you all as quick as possible.”

 _Huh._ Jisung was half right; Chan had healed himself underwater, just not by using ambrosia. Demigod abilities were much more varied than Jisung had initially thought. He had been under the impression that one godly parent meant one godly gift, but that didn’t actually seem to be the case. Did Jisung himself have more abilities than just shooting lightning from his hands? He knew Zeus was the god of the sky, lightning, and thunder, but what did that mean for Jisung? Actually, speaking of new godly gifts…

“Jeongin, did you teleport earlier or something?” Jisung asked.

“I ran!” Jeongin crowed in response. “I ran really, really fast!”

“Is that a common trait for children of Hermes?” Seungmin asked, brows knitting together. The rest of the boys looked at each other in confusion.

Chan eventually responded. “Not that I’ve ever heard of. But Hermes _is_ the messenger of the gods. He’s able to travel the world over in a single second. I guess some of his kids can do something similar?”

“This one sure can!” Minho cheered, ruffling Jeongin’s hair as the other gave a proud smile.

“And I’m incredibly grateful for that,” Seungmin said, untangling his hand from Chan’s before reaching over to wrap Jeongin in a tight hug. The younger put up with it for a couple seconds before wiggling his way out of Seungmin’s grasp.

“I already told you, of course I helped you! I’d do the same for any one of you.” Jeongin turned his gaze to each of the boys in turn, gracing them all with a wide smile.

Jisung hated to interrupt the moment, but a question had begun nagging him and would not leave him alone until he voiced it. “Uh, this is definitely unrelated, but how long was I out? Did I miss anything?”

Jisung didn’t think he’d been out for too long; the sun was still in relatively the same position it had been before he’d fainted. But still; a lot could happen in a short amount of time.

“Not long!” Hyunjin reassured him. “Maybe ten minutes, max.”

“And nothing interesting happened, don’t worry! We mostly just waited for you to wake up.” Felix shot him a wide grin.

“We did talk about how awesome your little lightning show was,” Changbin said with a grin just as wide as Felix’s. “Because it was very, very awesome.”

“Han Jisung, son of storms!” Minho cheered, leading the others in a round of chanting out Jisung’s name. Jisung blushed, ducking his head down along his sternum.

Despite how confident he’d tried to sound earlier, Jisung hadn’t been certain he could conjure a lightning bolt big enough to electrify the Ketos. But, when it came down to it, there really hadn’t been another option. Seungmin had nearly been _crushed_ , and Minho was tempting fate with the way he danced between the tentacles, and even Jeongin had been way too close for comfort. Jisung had seen everyone else struggling, had seen the worst-case scenarios play out in endless loops in his mind, and then his hands had been sparking and he’d known exactly what to do next. He hadn’t been anticipating the sudden crash following his action, but it was a small price to pay. He’d pass out a million times more if it meant the others were kept safe.

After another couple seconds of chanting which Jisung tried desperately to ignore, Chan cleared his throat. “So, I hate to cut this all short, because Jisung definitely deserves all this praise and more. The rest of you, too; Hyunjin and Felix’s incredible aim, Changbin’s perseverance in controlling shadows for the second time in one day, Minho’s debatably reckless bravery, Seungmin’s tactical maneuver – which I still do not fully approve of even though it ended up working out – and Jeongin’s incredible reflexes.”

“Plus Chan’s stamina and incredible water-bending abilities!” Felix interrupted. Jisung saw the tips of Chan’s ears color.

“Anyways,” Chan continued, “I think we really need to figure out our next steps.”

“Did the Nereids tell you anything?” Minho flipped from jovial to serious in the blink of an eye, settling down into a more comfortable position on the sand.

“They did. Apparently, monsters in the sea are becoming just as active as they have been on land.”

“Exhibit A,” Hyunjin added, gesturing back towards the water where the remains of the Ketos had long since been washed out with the tide.

“Exactly,” Chan replied. “A creature like the Ketos shouldn’t be seen, especially not so close to shore.”

“Isn’t the Ketos supposed to be under the watch of Poseidon?” Seungmin questioned. Jisung’s eyes went wide, matching the same surprised look the other boys were wearing.

“It is,” Chan confirmed, his voice tight.

“And the Stymphalian birds were supposed to be under the control of Athena,” Seungmin continued, his eyebrows knitting together. Jisung knew the other boy was formulating the very beginnings of an idea. Jisung himself had no clue what was going on, but trusted Seungmin to pull the pieces together.

“So, something is taking over control from the gods?” Changbin asked.

“And probably also responsible for the illness of the Mist,” Minho added.

“This is really bad, right?” Jeongin’s question was met with tense silence. Just like Jeongin, Jisung wasn’t entirely certain of the stakes of what was going on. But, also like Jeongin, he knew enough to realize things were growing incredibly serious.

“Did the Nereids say why the creatures were active?” Jisung asked Chan.

Chan shook his head. “Like Hades, they weren’t sure why all of this is happening. But they did tell me that a council of the gods had been called.”

“What!” Hyunjin exclaimed.

“What?” Jisung asked.

“Councils of the gods usually only happen on the solstice,” Seungmin explained, catching Jisung’s confused look. “Or if something really serious is happening.”

“My money’s on the later,” Changbin mumbled, his features dark.

“Did something happen after we left the Underworld?” Felix asked.

Chan nodded. “That’s what I’ve been thinking. At this point, I think our best bet is figure out why the gods have called a council. To do that, we’ll have to go to them.”

“As in, we have to go to Olympus?” Hyunjin asked, his eyes wide.

“Yup.” Chan’s voice was clipped.

“Do we know _how_ to get to Olympus?” Jeongin’s question was met with silence.

“I think we should call Brian,” Chan eventually said. “He might have an idea where the entrance to Olympus is. And besides, he’s long overdue an update.”

The rest of the boys nodded, shuffling back into a semi-circle with Chan (and Jisung, still beside him) in the middle. Jisung wasn’t quite sure what calling Brian entailed and was left even more confused when Chan dug a large, golden coin out of the brown bag. Jisung caught Jeongin’s eye from across the semi-circle, and the other boy shrugged. _Alright, then._ Jisung guessed he’d find out soon enough what was going on.

“Chan’s doing an Iris Message,” Felix whispered from Jisung’s other side. Jisung startled slightly at the unexpected voice, but soon settled down and turned to Felix, a question on the tip of his tongue. Felix beat him to it, continuing with, “an Iris Message is a way to communicate with others. Kinda like a video call? Iris is the goddess of rainbows, and so if you make a rainbow and throw a drachma into it – a drachma’s that golden coin Chan’s holding– she can connect you with anybody, anywhere. No wifi or cell service needed!”

As Felix talked, Jisung watched Chan conjure a fine mist. The clean smell of saltwater permeated the air. The mist caught the light from the slowly setting sun, and a small rainbow appeared. Chan tossed the coin into the rainbow, and to Jisung’s amazement it vanished.

“Oh Iris, goddess of the Rainbow, please accept my offering,” Chan said, before adding on, “Brian, please.”

A moment passed, and then an image of Brian’s shoulders and face appeared in the mist. He smiled widely at them.

“Hello everyone! If I’m being honest, I thought I’d hear from you earlier. And… are you at a beach?” Brian’s eyebrows drew together in confusion.

“That’s long story,” Chan said, running a hand through his curls as he gave Brian a lopsided grin.

“Then I guess you’d better fill me in.”

Chan proceeded to explain the events of the day (and had it really been only a day?) to Brian, the others interrupting now and then with anecdotes or further explanations. Every so often, Chan would toss another drachma into the mist after a soft female voice would announce the call was coming to a close. (Apparently Iris calls worked like payphone calls? Jisung was still rather confused by the whole thing.)

At the end of it all, Brian’s brows were drawn tightly together. “This progressed much quicker than I thought it would.”

“You said demigods have been going missing since the start of the summer, right?” Seungmin asked. When Brian nodded, Seungmin continued, “then, in all likelihood, this thing started months ago. Whatever ‘this thing’ actually is.” Seungmin’s voice was a low murmur as he finished speaking, and Jisung could tell that the other boy absolutely hated being in the dark about this whole thing. They knew some things, sure, but Jisung felt like they were standing five feet inside a tunnel that stretched for miles.

“You’re probably right,” Brian assented with a frown. “I’m sorry I’m not more help to you all. I’ve been trying to get in contact with the gods since morning but have had no luck so far. The camp’s library has also proven to be a fruitless venture.”

“Actually, speaking of the gods,” Chan politely intervened, “the reason you haven’t been able to get in contact with them is probably because they’re in council.”

“Council?” Brian’s eyes grew wide, his eyebrows still pulled together.

“And we’re gonna crash it!” Hyunjin chimed in.

“Uh, kinda!” Chan quickly added on. “We think that they have some critical piece of information on all this that’s cause them to call a council. We think something happened in the Underworld after we left. And so, since we’re all Fated to be wrapped up in this some way or another, we think we have a right to know whatever it is that caused the gods to call a council.”

Although Chan was presenting his case to Brian, it sounded to Jisung like Chan was trying to convince himself of his right to interrupt the council of the gods just as much as he was trying to convince Brian. Jisung didn’t know much about what this council entailed, but from the name alone he figured it was a pretty big deal. It was probably also not very welcoming of outsiders, but, well, weren’t they all technically family? If Jisung knew anything about families from his hours spent watching dramas, it was that they were always butting in at the least opportune times.

“Do you where the entrance to Olympus is located?” Minho cut through Chan’s rambling explanation, leveling Brian with a sharp-eyed stare.

“I don’t.” Brian’s answer instantly brought the mood down. “However,” Jisung shot his head back up towards Brian’s shimmering torso, “I believe you should be able to find the entrance in some place of great prominence. This will most likely be in a building or a location that is very high up; the original Olympus was located on a mountain, after all.”

Jisung made a face at Brian’s mention of an elevated location. He _hated_ heights. From the extreme displeasure on Minho’s face, Jisung guessed the other boy had a similar fear.

The rainbow flashed, and a soft female voice once more stated “five minutes remaining in your call.” This time, Chan refrained from tossing another drachma into the mist.

“I think that’s all we’ve got for you,” Chan told Brian.

“It’s more than enough for me to think over. However, I recommend you all find someplace to rest for the night. In the morning, you can return to Seoul to search for the entrance to Olympus. Knowing the gods, they likely placed the gateway into their realm in the most prominent city in South Korea.”

“You’re probably right,” Chan agreed. “Alright then, thanks Brian! We’ll talk to you later.”

“Best of luck to all of you. I’ll keep searching for answers on my end, and I’ll call if I find any. Stay safe, and may the Fates watch over you.” With one last smile, Brian ended the call.

A few moments of silence reigned after Chan evaporated the salty mist. Then Changbin let out an emphatic “you’ve gotta be fucking kidding me.”

“Language,” was Chan’s immediate response.

Jisung and the others instantly turned towards Changbin, and Jisung saw that he had his phone out and was looking at the screen in a frustrated sort of bemusement.

“What?” Jeongin asked.

“Guess what the tallest building in Seoul is?” Changbin said in response.

A creeping realization passed over Hyunjin’s face. “It isn’t…” Not for the first time, Jisung was very lost.

“It is,” Changbin confirmed, flipping his phone around to show the others. “Lotte World Tower.”

“Oh my fucking gods,” Minho sighed.

“Language,” Chan said, quietly.

“Has capitalism gone too far?” Felix questioned, his voice serious but his eyes dancing.

“There is no escape,” Seungmin said solemnly.

“Is Lotte World Tower inside Lotte World, or…?” Jisung trailed off. He was trying to remember if he’d seen an incredibly tall building attached to Lotte World. He didn’t think so, but he had been a little busy trying to spot invisible, deadly birds and so had been more than a little distracted.

“Nope, it’s a separate building. Just under the same corporation,” Changbin explained, still scrolling through his phone. “Damn, this thing has a hundred and twenty-three floors!”

“And we’d have to go all the way to the top?” Jisung’s question ended in an absolutely mortifying half-squeak. Thankfully, none of the other boys saw fit to comment on it.

“I think so,” Chan answered. “Actually, one of the Nereids mentioned something about the gods thinking highly of themselves. She probably also thought the gods would put Olympus somewhere super high.”

“Gods, this is gonna suck,” Minho groaned, flopping his head back to frown at the sky.

Felix leaned in towards Jisung. “Minho’s, like, super afraid of heights.”

“Me too,” Jisung replied, nervously entangling his fingers. That was probably ironic, right? A son of the sky god being absolutely terrified of heights.

Either Felix was secretly a mind reader or had just gotten really good at reading Jisung, as the other replied, “just because your dad’s Zeus doesn’t mean you’re automatically super chill with the whole ‘being one with the sky’ thing. Changbin hates skulls and bones and dead things, and his dad’s in charge of every dead thing there is. You’re your own person before you’re some god’s kid.”

Jisung was taken aback. Felix had cut to the core of his problem so easily, and assuaged his fears so simply. “Thanks. Really.”

“No problem!” Felix shot him a thumbs up. “The rest of us will be right there with you. Actually, we can just place you and Minho in the middle and, like, blindfold you or something, then lead you up. No biggie.” Just like that, Felix was back to his usual self.

“What are you two whispering about?” Hyunjin asked, craning his head around Chan to stare at Felix and Jisung.

“Oh, um, just that I’m, like, afraid of heights. So, the tower thing is gonna suck for me,” Jisung replied.

“Hell yeah, acrophobia buddies!” Minho held his hand up for an air-five, which Jisung met with a strained grin.

“Don’t worry guys! We’ll help you through it.” Chan patted Jisung’s knee while giving Minho a comforting smile.

“We can blindfold you or something,” Hyunjin added.

“That’s what I said!” Felix shouted.

Seungmin shot them both a look. “We won’t do that. But we will be there for you, like Chan said.”

Minho turned to Jisung, “I’ll let you squeeze my hand really hard if I get to squeeze yours back just as tightly!”

Jisung smiled. “Deal.”

“So, are we going back to Seoul?” Jeongin asked.

“I think it’s a bit too late to make the trip now,” Chan replied, turning his gaze towards where the sun was slowly lowering over the water. Jisung followed his gaze. The colors dripping off the evening sun were reflected in the waves, painting them a soft silver and orange. It was beautiful, but soon the sun would be swallowed by the waves, and the beach would grow dark and still. Jisung wasn’t a huge fan of beaches at night, and he had a feeling that most of the others shared that sentiment.

“I can look up places to stay in the area,” Changbin offered, already pulling out his phone.

“Sounds good. We can spend the night here, and then leave for Seoul first thing tomorrow morning. I’m pretty sure there’s an observatory deck on the 123rd floor of the tower, so we can get up to the top that way. Hyunjin,” Chan turned to the other boy, “there’s a chance wherever we end up staying tonight won’t be entirely welcoming of a group of eight kids with no adult supervision.”

“I can convince them otherwise.” Hyunjin’s face was serious, his hands clenched at his sides. Jisung’s heart clenched in response to Hyunjin’s determined expression. Hyunjin had only used his Charmspeak purposefully for the first time today, and yet he was willing to do so again without any hesitation to help them all. Jisung wanted to be like that. He would get a better handle on his demigod abilities, and he would protect the seven boys around him.

“Got a place!” Changbin said. “It’s a motel and it looks sketchy enough that hopefully whoever checks us in won’t care that we’re all minors.”

“Then I’ll be Plan B,” Hyunjin replied, nodding once to himself.

“Oh, Chan!” Jeongin exclaimed suddenly. Jisung startled slightly, before turning to the other boy. “Is there any way you can get my throwing knives out of the water? All I have now are my daggers.”

“Oo, and Hyunjin and me’s arrows, please!” Felix added.

“Will do! Just give me a minute.” Chan stood, shaking the sand from his shorts, and trotted down the beach. As Jisung and the others watched, Chan lifted his hands and made a pulling motion at the tide. A few moments later, a collection of knives and arrows washed up on the shore, and Chan began gathering them.

“So cool,” Hyunjin murmured a bit wistfully. Jisung was inclined to agree.

Chan returned with his arms laden with various pieces of weaponry (all dried thanks to Chan), which he distributed to Jeongin, Felix, and Hyunjin. Jisung couldn’t tell a difference between the arrows, but apparently Felix and Hyunjin could, as the two started splitting them up between themselves.

“Once you guys are ready, the motel’s a fifteen-minute walk from where we are.” Changbin showed the small map on his phone to the others for a brief moment, before angling his phone back towards himself. “I’ve placed a hold on two rooms, each with two queen-sized beds. We’re gonna have to share, but I don’t think we can really afford to splurge on four rooms.”

“Who’s with who?” Jeongin asked.

“Small with tall,” Minho immediately answered.

“Who’s small?” Felix asked.

Minho grinned at him. “You.”

“Hey!”

“No, I think Minho’s right,” Chan spoke slowly, looking around the circle. “There’ll be more room if we match those of us who are taller or broader with those who are smaller. No offense, but Felix, you’re definitely on the smaller side.”

Jisung raised his hand. “I’d for sure classify myself as ‘small.’ So, yeah.”

Jeongin pouted, but raised his hand as well. “I guess I’m small too.”

“The youngest is always the smallest!” Seungmin agreed.

Jeongin’s pout grew. “You’re like, not even half a year older than me, and maybe a centimeter or two taller.”

Seungmin shrugged. “I don’t make the rules, I just enforce them.”

“So who’s the last of the smalls?” Changbin asked. Seven pairs of eyes turned towards him. “Aw, c’mon, seriously?”

“Them’s the facts, Binnie!” Minho crowed, wearing an absolutely shit-eating grin. Jisung was smiling, too, and his smile only grew as Changbin’s frown deepened.

“I think it’s a pretty solid consensus,” Chan added while trying his best to hid a dimpled grin.

“Fine. But I’m doing this under protest.”

“Alright!” Chan clapped once. “I’ll take one room, and Minho and Changbin will be in the other. Do we wanna do rock-paper-scissors to decide who’s with who, or…?”

“Dibs on Chan!” Felix cried before Chan had gotten the chance to finish his sentence.

“Dibs on Innie!” Seungmin spoke immediately after. Jeongin tried his very best to look put-out, but he couldn’t quite hide his grin.

“Damn, I don’t want Hyunjin or Minho,” Changbin pouted. “Why can’t Jisung and I just share, and the beanpole can share with the crazy cat lady?”

Minho’s grin grew somehow larger. “Just for that, you’re with me.”

“Oh, c’mon –”

“Respect your elders!” Minho trilled, slinging an arm around Changbin’s shoulders as the other continued to whine.

“That means I’m sharing with Jisung! Suck it, Changbin!” Hyunjin launched himself around Chan just to drape himself over Jisung’s back. Jisung nearly collapsed under his weight. A second later, Hyunjin seemed to realize that he was half-crushing Jisung, and quickly shifted so that most of his weight was centered back where he was kneeling in the sand. Hyunjin still remained half-draped over Jisung, however.

“Alright, then Felix and I will be with Seungmin and Jeongin, and Minho and Changbin will be with Hyunjin and Jisung,” Chan decided.

“I object,” Seungmin instantly responded.

Chan’s eyes widened and his mouth opened and closed a couple times before he finally managed a small, “what?”

“I object,” Seungmin repeated. “You want me in the same room with you so you can spend the entire night watching me to make sure I don’t stop breathing. I’d prefer if I wasn’t suffocated with care tonight. I also think you could really use a good night’s sleep.”

Chan’s mouth opened and closed a couple more times.

Minho was cackling. “He’s got you there, Chan!” He calmed a bit, before continuing, “don’t worry though; I’ll make sure Seungmin here isn’t crushed by any Ketoses hiding under the beds.”

“I– Then– Fine,” Chan, apparently sensing this was a battle he wouldn’t win, eventually relented. “Then Hyunjin and Jisung, you’ll be with me. Seungmin and Jeongin, you’ll be with Minho and Changbin.”

“Seungmin and Jeongin, it will be up to you to keep Changbin and Minho from murdering each other before the night is through,” Felix added, giving a dramatic salute. “Gods-speed, gentlemen.” Seungmin and Jeongin saluted back, mock-serious expressions on their faces.

“Okay!” Changbin cried, drawing the attention to himself, “now that everybody’s done teaming up on me, I say we head for the motel. I think it’s about to get real dark and creepy here pretty soon, and I don’t wanna be here when that happens. Who knows what else is just chilling in the ocean, waiting to eat my poor little body…” Changbin trailed off, untangling himself from Minho and slinging his bag over his shoulder as he stood.

Jisung followed Changbin’s actions, untangling himself from Hyunjin to stand as well. The taller boy followed him up, and soon they were all standing. Jisung tried his very best to get the sand out of his shorts and his shoes, but he was sure there’d be some left despite his best efforts. Sand was magical that way. He gave one last shake of his shorts before following Changbin and the others away from the beach.

True to the map’s prediction, fifteen minutes later Jisung found himself standing with the others at the entrance of a spectacularly shady motel. The parking spaces were poorly demarcated, and the lot was more pothole than asphalt. The building was the kind of off-white where Jisung wasn’t sure if the color was fully intentional or a result of beach weather paired with years without a proper cleaning. There were a few vending machines scattered between room doors painted a chipped turquoise. The sign proclaiming the name of the motel was half lit, turning Ocean’s Eleven into Oce ‘s Ele.

“I love ohshee elle,” Felix murmured upon catching sight of the sign. “What a great movie.”

Jisung snorted. “I think you mean ochee eelee. But don’t worry, it’s a common mispronunciation.”

“Alright guys,” Chan said. “The rest of you wait out here. Hyunjin, come check in to Ochee Eelee with me.”

“Sure!” Hyunjin’s voice was light, but Jisung could see the way the other boy tensed up when Chan called his name. Jisung gave Hyunjin a small pat on his lower arm; it wasn’t much, but Jisung wanted to show his support somehow. Hyunjin seemed to get it, as he gave Jisung a grateful smile before following Chan into the little office.

An uncomfortable number of minutes passed as the sky grew darker. Jisung found himself switching from foot to foot, sending anxious wishes up into the dusk that Chan and Hyunjin would be able to get them rooms. He could see the others shifting beside him, likely just as nervous but each trying to disguise that as best they could. Finally, after a small eternity, Chan and Hyunjin emerged from the building. Chan was smiling, though it seemed forced, and held up two keys for the other boys to see. Hyunjin was scowling.

“Everything okay?” Minho asked.

“We got the rooms,” Hyunjin answered, his voice as bitter as his glare. “No Charmspeak required.”

“We’re one-fifteen and one-sixteen,” Chan quickly added on, “just down this way.” Chan handed one of the keys to Minho before heading off in the direction he’d indicated. Jisung cast a worried look towards Hyunjin, but the other was already following after Chan, scowl still firmly fixed on his face. Jisung, too, followed after the others.

When they arrived at rooms 115 and 116, Chan turned back towards the group. “Okay guys, we’ll meet out here at 8am. We can grab something for breakfast at the train station, and then we’ll head back to Seoul and Lotte World Tower. Sound good?” Following a chorus of yesses, Chan gave them all a grin. “Great! Then sleep well, everybody. It’s been a long day; we deserve some good rest.”

“Amen!” Minho cheered, opening the door to room 116 and ushering Changbin, Jeongin, and Seungmin into the room before him. “Night, everyone!”

Jisung joined the others in saying goodnight before he, too, was being ushered into room 115 by Chan with Felix and Hyunjin close behind.

Once inside, Chan asked, “do you all mind if I grab first shower?”

“Go for it! I’m actually gonna try to see if I can find a working vending machine and get some snacks. Anyone want anything?” Felix asked.

Jisung shook his head. “No thanks.” Hyunjin mumbled out something similar before throwing himself down onto the bed furthest from the door. Chan had already disappeared into the bathroom.

Felix shrugged. “Suit yourselves. I’ll get extras, just in case.” With one last wave, he exited the room.

Jisung and Hyunjin were left in relative silence. A moment later, Jisung heard the thump of a pipe being activated, and the shower in the bathroom sputtered to life.

“Hope Chan doesn’t use up all the hot water,” Jisung said, and then instantly cringed. He had needed to say _something_ , but was that really the best his brain could come up with?

Lucky for him, Hyunjin snorted. “He probably will, and then he’ll feel super bad about it and apologize a thousand times, but that won’t stop him from using up all the hot water the next time he showers.”

Jisung chuckled lightly, perching on the edge of the bed Hyunjin was lying on. Jisung still felt the urge to talk, especially as the frown worked its way back onto Hyunjin’s face. _Here goes nothing, I guess._

“Um,” Jisung started, and, really, this was already going so well, “do you, um, want to talk?”

“What?” Hyunjin wiggled himself up so that he was leaning back against the headboard. The frown was still on his face, but now it was more so a confused frown than an irritated frown. Jisung would count that as a victory.

“Do you, um, want to talk? About, um, earlier?” God, why couldn’t Jisung just say what he wanted to? Was it really that hard?

Honestly, though, he was still a little intimidated by the other boy. Jisung had caught on to the way Hyunjin had seemed to avoid him those first couple days of camp. Hyunjin had showed up to breakfast later and left bonfires earlier. Plus, Jisung was pretty sure that Hyunjin had skipped a weaving class to avoid Jisung. Then, for reasons unknown to Jisung, a switch flipped and Hyunjin started treating Jisung with just as much clinginess as he did the other boys. Though it had confused Jisung, he’d accepted the change. That didn’t mean he was entirely comfortable with Hyunjin yet. The other boy held himself to such a high standard. Hyunjin was constantly trying to get better at his swordplay, his archery, even his weaving! He set the bar high, and then he met that and set the bar higher still. He was just… intimidating. There was really no better word to describe it.

Hyunjin was especially intimidating now, staring at Jisung with his thick brows drawn together and his frown slowly returning from confusion back into irritation. “About earlier?”

“When, um, when you and Chan went to go check in. You came out looking kind of…” Jisung trailed off, gesturing vaguely at Hyunjin. God, this was going great, wasn’t it?

“Oh.” Hyunjin’s frown grew deeper, and Jisung kind of wanted to crawl into a pit and never come out. Jisung definitely wasn’t expecting the next words out of Hyunjin’s mouth, though. “Do you think I’m hot?”

“What?” Jisung’s mouth was hanging open. Jisung couldn’t find it in himself to close it.

“Do you think I’m hot? Attractive, pretty, handsome, whatever. Do you?” Hyunjin’s stare was sharp enough to cut through Jisung.

“I think you’re intimidating.” _Shit._ It would’ve been nice to have a brain-to-mouth filter. At least when Hyunjin killed him, Jisung would get to see his mom again.

Except, Hyunjin no longer looked murderous. Instead, he looked confused: features lax and stare no longer cutting. “What?”

 _Might as well commit._ “I think you’re intimidating. It’s just, you’re always striving towards a new goal, and you’re always so focused on improving, and you just seem like you know who you are. So, um, I think that’s intimidating.”

Hyunjin was silent. He was looking at Jisung with an unreadable expression. Jisung was nearly sweating, and it was taking every ounce of willpower he had not to start fidgeting in his seat. Eventually, Hyunjin did speak.

“The clerk told me I was really, really hot. She didn’t even ask about my age, or Chan’s age, or anything. We went to check in, and the clerk looked at me, and told me I was hot, and then she gave us our room keys. No questions asked. I didn’t even have to talk, she just… did.”

“Oh.” Jisung didn’t quite know what to say to that. Obviously, Hyunjin was attractive. Jisung was pretty sure that was part of the whole ‘child of Aphrodite’ deal. But, being treated differently not for who you were, but because of what you looked like, even if it was favorable treatment… Jisung thought he understood a little why Hyunjin had been so upset.

“So thanks, I guess,” Hyunjin continued, “for thinking I’m intimidating.” And then Hyunjin broke into a large smile and his eyes crinkled up and he looked so, so endearing.

Jisung, because maybe he was a bit of a fool but also maybe because he felt his heart swelling with fondness for this boy in front of him, responded with, “well, actually, now I think you’re more adorable than intimidating, so…”

Hyunjin’s smile only widened, and he opened his arms. “C’mere?” Jisung accepted the invitation gladly. 

A couple minutes passed with Jisung settled comfortably alongside Hyunjin. Then Felix walked back into the room, arms full of various snack bags. He promptly dropped them on his bed before turning towards Jisung and Hyunjin with a look of utter betrayal on his face.

“You guys started a cuddle pile without me?”

“C’mere,” Hyunjin laughed, extending a hand out towards Felix. The other boy was quick to join them, elbowing Jisung in the rib and kneeing Hyunjin in the stomach as he did so.

Maybe half a minute later Chan emerged from the shower, took one look at the boys entangled on the bed, and launched himself on top of all three of them with a triumphant “my boys!”

If the four of them fell asleep all crammed into one bed, well; that was no one’s business but their own. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hope you all liked the little Hyunsung moment at the end! Next chapter will be more plot-oriented, I promise!
> 
> Also holy shit can we talk about the teaser for Go? Because I'm pretty sure we're all gonna die. Rest-in-ponytails (specifically Hyunjin's) y'all. 
> 
> Today's song rec is ["동그라미의 꿈(Circle's Dream)" by 수빈(Subin)](https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=kdT1OEYfcMs), which is yet another song with great, chill vibes. Her voice is seriously so pretty and so comforting!
> 
> On a very different note, continue to stay safe, everybody. If you're American, I encourage you to support the Black Lives Matter movement however you can; you can find more information at blacklivesmatter.com. Please, please be kind to each other. I love you all, so much <3 <3 <3


	15. Olympus

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Things Start Happening in this chapter, so uh, *Mario voice* letsa go!

Jisung found himself awake at 7am, a good hour before the boys had agreed to meet up and about 30 minutes earlier than the alarm he had set on his phone. During the night, he had somehow managed to wedge himself in-between Hyunjin and Chan. Jisung was certain Felix had been here, too, though the other boy was currently missing from the cluster. As he carefully raised his head to peer over the small mountain of Chan’s shoulder, Jisung spotted his almost-twin sitting on the other bed, headphones in and eyes glued to his phone screen. His hair was wet, and so he must have taken a shower at some point earlier in the morning, though Jisung hadn’t heard him. Jisung was usually a pretty light sleeper; he must’ve been truly exhausted to have been sleeping so soundly.

As soon as Jisung caught sight of him, Felix instantly looked up, his eyes finding Jisung’s a second later. Felix offered Jisung a smile and a shrug, pointing to the faint light coming in from behind the dark curtains at the entrance of their motel room. _Oh, right._ Felix was always up with the sun. Jisung winced sympathetically in return, and Felix gave him another shrug before turning his attention back to his phone.

Meanwhile, Jisung began the arduous task of extracting himself from between Chan and Hyunjin. It was slow going, but Jisung absolutely did not want to wake either of the other boys. They needed as much sleep as they could get. It took another minute or so of small, careful movements before Jisung was able to crawl over Hyunjin’s legs and off the bed. He once more caught Felix’s eye, and pointed towards the motel door. Felix nodded, tossing his headphones down on the bed and pocketing his phone as he followed Jisung outside.

Once door had been softly shut behind them, Jisung turned to Felix and asked, “what time were you up?”

Felix hummed, his eyes travelling out towards the horizon as he thought. “Six, six-thirty-ish? Sometime around then. But it’s chill! We crashed pretty early, so I actually feel well-rested for once.”

“For once?” Jisung parroted, eyebrows raised.

Felix met Jisung’s eyes with a look that was half-grimace, half-grin. “I may or may not spend an unhealthy amount of time playing Minecraft if I’m left on my own in my cabin. Usually Chan or Changbin’ll crash, or else drag me to theirs, but,” Felix shrugs, “otherwise, I be mining.”

“Your dedication to the craft is truly incredible.”

“Thanks, I–” Felix paused mid-sentence, and turned to Jisung with wide eyes and a wider smile. “Oh my gods, I see what you did there!”

Jisung grinned back. “Thanks, I try.”

The door to Room 116 opened with a slight creak, and both boys turned to meet the ruffled form of Seungmin. The other boy caught sight of them with a start, his sleep-heavy eyelids jerking open as he stumbled slightly on the small lip at the room’s entrance.

“Morning, Seungmin!” Felix cheered, obviously the most alert of the three of them. Jisung wasn’t too far behind, but Seungmin looked as if he was still half-asleep.

“Morning,” Seungmin slurred. He blinked a couple times, bringing a half-fist up to rub at his eyes as he squinted at the morning sun.

“Did you sleep alright?” Jisung asked. The other boy really looked so tired.

Seungmin turned towards Jisung, considering him for a moment. Seungmin’s expression was carefully guarded despite his obvious fatigue. Eventually, his face relaxed, and he replied, “not really.”

“Oh no, why?” Felix asked.

Seungmin shrugged. “I guess yesterday impacted me more than I had originally thought.”

It took Jisung a few moments to piece together what Seungmin meant. His brain was still slightly foggy from sleep, and the warm sun resting gently on his skin wasn’t helping his acuity any. Eventually, Seungmin’s words clicked, and Jisung quickly turned towards him. He had no clue how to act in a situation like this. He had dealt with nightmares himself, though, and had been on the receiving end of care more times than he’d like to admit.

“Do you… want to talk about it?” Jisung asked. That was the right thing to do, right? That was what Chan had done for him, and Changbin, and Jeongin, and every other boy, actually. _Huh._

Seungmin considered for a few moments. “Not right now, I don’t think. I’m still processing it for myself. I don’t think it’ll be helpful for me to talk until that’s finished.”

Felix nodded. “All on your time.” He had said nearly the same thing to Jisung, before. Jisung added a “like Felix said,” and Seungmin smiled at both of them.

“Thank you both for asking, really. And don’t worry; this shouldn’t impact our trip to Olympus at all. I’m, uh, pretty good at compartmentalizing.” Seungmin straightened the end of his shirt, allowing his grin to go lopsided for a second. “Could you maybe not tell Chan about all this? He’s worried enough as is with everything going on, and I don’t want to add to that.”

“Sure thing!” Felix responded.

Jisung said “no problem,” before reflecting back on Seungmin’s words. Jisung himself had probably caused Chan a lot of worry, hadn’t he? There was so much he still didn’t know, or didn’t understand. And there was so much baggage that he was lugging around. Still, he was trying to be useful, now, and he was learning. That was all he could do, but Jisung hoped it would be enough to ease some of Chan’s worry.

The three boys watched the sun continue to rise slowly over the worn parking lot. It was a comfortable moment; peaceful and quiet. The heat of the day had yet to take effect, and so the air filling Jisung’s lungs was cool and tasted off the sea. It was refreshing, and it made Jisung realize that he was still in the same sand-laden clothes he had been wearing yesterday.

“I need a shower,” Jisung announced to the other two boys. “Do you think I can take one without waking up Chan and Hyunjin?”

Felix shrugged. “None of you guys woke up when I showered, so I say go for it. It’s almost time for us all to be up, anyways.”

“I should probably get started on waking up Changbin. He sleeps like the dead.” Seungmin’s smile was incredibly wide, and his eyes were bright and awake.

Jisung burst into laughter. “Oh my god. Okay, yeah, good luck.”

“I can help!” Felix said, still chuckling. He followed Seungmin into Room 116 while Jisung returned to Room 115.

While readying himself to shower, Jisung rediscovered the little baggie of yellow candies he had been gifted by the old lady he and Jeongin had accompanied to the tailor’s. He’d forgotten all about the bag shoved into one of his pockets, but luckily the candies were individually wrapped and so hadn’t melted into one giant mess of sugar. Maybe he could have one now, as an appetizer of sorts to breakfast?

Upon opening the bag, Jisung discovered a little blue note. He grabbed that first. In a neat, steady print, it read: “Best enjoyed in a group! Especially after gardening.” There was a little smiling face drawn in the corner of the note, and Jisung smiled to himself upon catching site of it. A quick count of the candies revealed there were, in fact, eight of them.

 _I’ll wait, then_ , Jisung decided, retying the thin red ribbon that had held the bag closed. It would be a nice little treat after they got through with Olympus; something small with which to surprise the others (minus Jeongin). After tucking the bag of candies into his backpack, Jisung continued with his original goal of showering. By the time he finished, Chan was up, and Hyunjin was just beginning to stir.

“Morning!” Chan greeted. He was seated next to Felix, watching something with the other on his phone.

“Morning,” Jisung replied. “Morning, Hyunjin…?” Hyunjin mumbled something unintelligible in response, his eyes still firmly closed.

“He’ll be more awake after he showers,” Chan supplied. Sure enough, Hyunjin was slowly easing himself up and off the bed, staggering towards the bathroom entrance where Jisung was standing. Jisung moved out of the way but remained ready to catch the other boy should he fall. Hyunjin, despite his uneven steps, remained largely upright as he made it into the bathroom and shut the door behind him. A few moments later, the water turned back on.

Jisung joined Chan and Felix in watching what appeared to be gaming videos on Felix’s phone. They were all in English, and though Jisung could’ve maybe understood the concept if he had paid attention, he instead let the words wash over him, simply enjoying the relative calm of the morning.

Hyunjin exited the bathroom at exactly 8am looking much more alert than he had ten minutes prior. “I’m ready to depart!” he announced, finishing drying his hair with a flourish of his towel that had Felix snorting, Jisung chuckling, and Chan rolling his eyes.

“Then let’s depart,” Chan said, moving to grab his own backpack and the brown bag from Brian.

“Do we have enough money to get into Lotte Tower?” Jisung wondered, realizing with a start that he’d spoken aloud when the others turned to him and Chan answered his question.

“I think so. But I think that’ll use up the last of our funds.”

“We’ll be back in Seoul, though,” Hyunjin pointed out. “We can reach out to Brian if we need more money.”

“True,” Chan said, but he didn’t look very happy about the prospect.

“Let’s go meet the others!” Felix swung the door to the room open, effectively stopping any of Chan’s worried thoughts before he could voice them.

The other four were also exiting their room as Jisung and the rest made their way outside. Seungmin and Minho looked significantly more awake than Changbin, and Jeongin was somewhere in the middle in terms of alertness. Still, the youngest offered them all a brace-filled smile and a soft “morning!” as soon as they were all outside.

“Morning,” Jisung replied alongside Chan, Felix, and Hyunjin.

“Are we ready to head out?” Chan asked. He was met with a round of nodding heads.

“We’re getting food at the station, right?” Jeongin asked.

“Right,” Chan replied.

“Oh!” Felix exclaimed, slinging his bag off one of his shoulders to root around in it. “I bought snacks last night, then never ate them. Here!” He began passing out various crinkling bags. Jisung happily accepted a pack of butter chips. The group took off for the bus station, munching all the way. From there, they smoothly transitioned from the bus onto the train back to Seoul (with a stop for breakfast in between). The train ride to Seoul was just as cheerful as their initial journey to the beach had been. Jisung sat with Minho, and then with Jeongin, and then simultaneously with Seungmin and Chan after Seungmin lost a round of rock-paper-scissors and was forced to give up his seat so that a gloating Changbin could stretch out across two seats.

The good mood persisted after the boys arrived back in Seoul and began navigating their way towards Lotte World Tower. Sure, they were all a bit more cautious – Jisung had his eyes peeled for any abnormally shimmering patches of air, and he was sure the other boys were doing the same – but on the whole, there was a general sense of optimism among them. Maybe it was due to the fact that they had survived the Ketos, maybe it was being back in the familiarity of Seoul, or maybe it was the anticipation of finally, _finally_ getting answers to the questions that had been nagging them for days (and, in Chan’s case, years). Whatever the reason, Jisung was glad for the light mood. It helped him keep the positive outlook he’d been trying to revive for weeks now. Even the impending hundred and twenty-three floors they’d have to elevate couldn’t dampen his mood. God damn it, Jisung was _happy_ , and he was going to _stay_ happy.

Jisung quickly discovered that anticipating one hundred and twenty-three floors was very different from actually seeing one hundred and twenty-three floors. When the group arrived at the base of the Lotte World Tower and Jisung had to crane his neck all the way back to see the top, he felt his stomach drop. Beside him, Minho entangled their hands together.

“I squeeze your hand, you squeeze mine,” Minho whispered. Jisung gave a jerky nod in response, still starting at the top of the tower. He was positive that it was above cloud level. It was so _high_.

“Is it time for blindfolds?” Felix asked, his grin stupid and wide.

“I’ve got hairbands you can use!” Hyunjin cried, already reaching back into his bag.

“We’re not doing the blindfold thing,” Seungmin said, exasperation dripping from every syllable.

“I thought we agreed to stick Minho and Jisung in the middle and just kind of shuffle them up?” Changbin asked.

“Blindfolds will be plan B,” Felix murmured to Hyunjin, who nodded enthusiastically as he closed his backpack. Jisung just pressed closer into Minho’s side, the other boy leaning just as heavily into him.

“Alright, gang,” Chan drew everyone’s attention to himself. “Now, I’m not quite sure where we’re going to find the entrance to Olympus. My best guess is the top floor, but I think we can only get up to the hundred and twenty-second floor with a general admissions ticket.”

“Yeah,” Hyunjin interrupted, “the top floor is a fancy lounge for rich assholes.”

“Language!” Chan said, but his eyes were kind. Jisung sensed that maybe Hyunjin’s words were rooted in something personal. “But yeah, it looks like the top floor is exclusive.”

“We’ll find a way up!” Jeongin said, eyes gleaming. He seemed very excited at the prospect of breaking into yet another aspect of Lotte World. Honestly, though, Jisung couldn’t blame him. It was a bit exhilarating to do harmless crimes. Besides, it was for a good cause. Probably.

“Alright, so we get our tickets, circle up around Minho and Jisung, head to the hundred and twenty second floor, and then figure out a way up from there?” Changbin summarized.

“Yup,” Chan replied.

“Let’s do this!” Felix cheered, leading the rest of them into the building’s lobby. As they bought their tickets and boarded the sleek elevator that would lift them up above the skyline, Jisung tried very hard not to think about exactly how high up he was being carried. True to their word, the others had formed a tight circle around Minho and himself, who were both facing the elevator doors and doing their best to ignore just how quickly they were rising above Seoul. All too soon, they arrived at the 122nd floor, and Jisung and Minho were met with a wall of windows.

“Fuck,” Minho muttered, his hand tightening around Jisung’s. The other boy was trembling slightly. Jisung was trembling too, and he whole-heartedly empathized with Minho’s murmured expletive.

It was terrifying. No matter which direction Jisung looked at, he was met with a wide-open view of just how high up they really were. He could feel his heartbeat picking up, and his breath starting to catch in the back of his throat. _Oh god._ Now really was _not_ the time.

“Around back, this way,” Chan instructed, bringing the group out of sight of the windows. As soon as he was away from the dizzying skyline of Seoul, Jisung felt himself calming down.

“Now what?” Hyunjin asked.

“There has to be stairs, somewhere,” Seungmin replied. “It’s a fire hazard if not.”

“Look for exit signs,” Minho added in a shaky voice. His hand stayed firmly wrapped around Jisung’s despite the fact that they were no longer in view of any windows, and Jisung was incredibly thankful for this small reassurance. Jisung also appreciated the distraction of the simple task Minho had suggested, and he quickly started scanning their surroundings for any glowing red exit signs.

Jisung found the exit at the same time Jeongin did, both pointing it out with a synchronized, “there!”

Jeongin grinned at Jisung, who returned the favor, before stating, “follow me!”

The group of eight stopped outside the staircase. It wasn’t locked – it couldn’t be, not it if was truly an emergency exit – but Jisung bet that it was alarmed.

Seungmin apparently thought the same, as he was reaching out to stop Jeongin from moving any further with a quick “don’t touch the door.”

Jeongin turned around, eyes wide. “Why not?”

“It’s probably alarmed,” Jisung offered, and Seungmin nodded in agreement.

“I say we just go for it,” Changbin said. Jisung turned to him, eyebrows crawling up under his bangs. “What other option do we have?”

“No one’s got some secret alarm-disarming demigod power, right?” Chan asked, only half-joking as he glanced around their little cluster. No one responded, and Chan sighed. “Then I think Changbin’s right. We’re just gonna have to get in and find the door to Olympus, fast.”

“I can do fast!” Jeongin was nearly vibrating in anticipation, and Jisung found himself getting excited for the upcoming few minutes despite the lingering clump of fear resting in the back of his mind.

“I, uh, I think I can cause a distraction,” Minho spoke up. Seven sets of eyes turned towards him. “I haven’t really tried this before for, um, ethical reasons.” Jisung felt his eyebrows elevating to previously unreached heights.

“Minho…” Chan’s voice was somehow a mixture of pleading, fear, and exacerbation.

“I’ve talked about it with my dad,” Minho continued. “You know, Dionysus? The god of ritual madness?”

“Oh my gods,” Seungmin whispered.

“Please explain?” Hyunjin asked, his voice hesitant.

“I think I can get the people on this floor to start acting insane.” At Minho’s words, Changbin let out an involuntary “what.” Minho continued, “that way, when we open the door and the alarm goes off, it won’t be traced back to us, necessarily. It’ll just be seen as an offshoot of all the other crazy shit people are inevitably going to end up doing.”

“It won’t… hurt people, right?” Jeongin asked.

“It shouldn’t. Dionysus was all about the fun kind of madness: vine, wine, and having a good time.” Minho, despite what he was suggesting, was grinning. Jisung found himself believing the other truly could cause a harmless kind of frenzy to cover their tracks.

“Okay,” Chan slowly assented. “But, any sign of something going bad, you stop. Got it?”

“Got it.” Minho’s expression was serious once more. “Um, you all might want to get behind me? I’m not really sure how this works in practice, but I’m just gonna imagine crazy-beams shooting out of my hands. You all should be safe back there.”

Jisung reluctantly released his grasp on Minho’s hand, moving back with the others to stand behind him. As Minho squared his shoulders and raised his arms in front of him, Jisung held his breath. For a few moments, nothing happened. Then, Jisung began to hear singing. It was a horrendously off pitch version of whatever newest pop song was eating up the charts, and it was loud. Soon, another voice joined in, then a third. Someone else started vocalizing what Jisung suspected was supposed to be the synth instrumental, and another person added some shoddy beatbox to the concoction.

Minho turned back to the others with a tired grin. “I tried to put out crazy rock star vibes. I guess it worked.”

“This is the best,” Felix stated, a huge grin on his face as he started humming along to the travesty echoing throughout the 122nd floor.

As Jisung watched, a collection of people performing some intricate arm wiggling and torso swaying passed in front of him.

“Are they doing interpretive dance?” Hyunjin asked in an awed whisper.

“I may have also tried to suggest they let the music take control,” Minho replied, his grin growing wider. His hand found Jisung’s again, and Jisung gave it a tight squeeze.

“This is the best,” Felix repeated, giggling as a man doing an elaborate air guitar routine ran past them.

“Good job, Maestro Minho,” Seungmin said.

Minho grinned. “I’m just glad it actually worked. Now, who’s ready to meet some gods?”

“Let’s go!” Jeongin pushed the door open, the resulting shrill alarm simply one more layer of the already cacophonous mixture going on behind them.

Given the literal insanity of the past few minutes, Jisung had forgotten exactly how high up they truly were. He was instantly reminded of this reality when Jeongin finessed the door to the 123rd floor open and all eight boys stepped out into the highest space Jisung had ever been to in his life. He immediately turned around, dragging Minho with him as he retreated into the stairwell. The other boy wasn’t faring much better than Jisung. Minho looked tired from the madness stunt he had pulled earlier, and the overwhelming view of sky they’d been met with probably wasn’t helping his state any.

Still, Minho tried to put on a brave face for Jisung. “So, we’re pretty high up, huh?”

Jisung repeated Minho’s earlier, eloquent sentiment of “fuck.”

Minho laughed once, tight and breathy. “Yeah, that about covers it.”

Felix poked his head back through the door. “Do you two need Hyunjin’s hairbands?”

Minho looked between Jisung and Felix before returning his gaze to Felix. “How about Jisung and I wait here, and the rest of you find the entrance? We can make sure no one comes up from the rave happening on the floor below.”

Felix gave them both a small smile. “Okay!” He ducked back out of the stairwell, and Minho and Jisung were left by themselves.

Jisung eased himself onto the nearby steps, tugging Minho gently to get him to follow. When they were both seated, Jisung leaned into the other boy. “This is so dumb.” Minho hummed a question, and Jisung elaborated. “This; me, this fear.”

When Minho opened his mouth to respond, Jisung cut him off. “No, I know, Felix already told me how it’s okay and my godly parentage doesn’t define me and all that. But still; it’s dumb.”

“I mean, it is kinda dumb, actually,” Minho replied. Jisung felt his mouth fall open as he turned to the other boy. Minho was grinning at him, large and self-satisfied. “Me, I have a perfectly reasonable explanation for being afraid of heights. If I fall from this high up – or any significant height, really – then poof! I’m a Minho pancake. But you can probably fly or some shit. You’ll be just fine.”

“I can’t fly,” Jisung mumbled, but he found himself hesitantly meeting Minho’s grin.

“Jeongin wasn’t Kid Flash either, not until he had to be. And then he was. I’m just saying – I don’t think you have anything to fear from falling.”

“Then if you fall, I’ll catch you!”

“Aw, so sweet!” Minho purred, wrapping Jisung up in one of his patented suffocating hugs. Jisung let himself be enveloped, leaning into the embrace. Like this, he didn’t feel quite so high.

The stairway door opened behind them. From over the top of Minho’s shoulder, Jisung spotted Hyunjin cooing at the two of them. Jisung slowly wiggled his way out of Minho’s grasp, leaving their hands intertwined.

“Did you find the entrance?” Minho asked.

Hyunjin nodded. “We think so. We’re waiting to open it until we’re all gathered, but all signs point towards yes. It’s a big, flashy door with big, flashy pillars on either side.”

Minho snorted. “Sounds like the Olympians alright.”

Jisung rose to his feet, Minho right behind him. “Let’s go crash the family gathering.”

“Hell yeah!” Minho cheered.

“You two gonna be alright? We do have to pass through the high-flying zone to get to the door.”

“Let’s just go really, really fast,” Jisung replied.

“On three?” Hyunjin offered. When the other two nodded, he began the countdown. “One… two… three!”

All three boys took off at a near sprint through the stairway door, Hyunjin in the lead and Jisung and Minho following behind while desperately trying to block off the panoramic views on all sides. Another couple seconds and they were safely rejoining the cluster of other boys gathered in a small back room. True to Hyunjin’s description, the proposed doors to Olympus were large, and flashy, and flanked by pillars.

“Tasteful,” Jisung commented. Minho and Felix let out equally derisive snorts.

“Everyone ready?” Chan asked. His voice was steady, but Jisung could see the nervousness in his eyes. He was reminded of their conversation yesterday on the train; about their godly parents, Chan’s desire to meet his father, and Jisung’s conflicted stance on the same. Jisung gave Chan a thumbs up, hoping he could convey more than just agreement to the other. The others were giving Chan similar signs of assent.

“All right then, here we go.” Chan pried open the door, and the eight boys passed through.

Unlike entering into the Underworld, the entrance to Olympus was abrupt. One moment Jisung was standing on the 123rd floor of the Lotte World Tower, the next he was standing at the base of a set of white marble stairs leading up to a grand temple.

“It’s that easy?” Changbin questioned, eyebrows drawn together.

Seungmin was studying the doorway they had just passed through. “I think only those with godly blood are allowed to pass through, or something similar. See? The shimmer?”

After Seungmin pointed it out, Jisung became aware of the thin golden membrane shimmering in the doorway between the mortal world and the realm of the gods. Now that he thought about it, maybe he had felt a slight tingling sensation upon entering Olympus that he had initially blamed on nerves.

“Well, we’re here now! Let’s go get our answers.” Felix exclaimed, taking the first step up onto the marble stairs before turning back to the others. “Maybe altogether?”

“Altogether.” Chan confirmed, joining Felix on the steps. The rest followed close behind, swiftly climbing towards the large temple.

“Here we go,” Minho murmured under his breath, tightening his grasp on Jisung’s hand.

 _Here we go,_ Jisung thought in turn as the eight of them passed through the temple’s entrance.

They arrived in a grand entrance hall. Unlike the hall in the Underworld, this one was white and bright and lined with braziers glowing a warm golden hue. Small pedestals supporting intricately sculpted and painted vases were dotted along the walls. The ceiling was high and arched and lined in a thick stripe of gold. There were twelve large thrones built into the walls of the temple; five on the right, five on the left, and two at the far end of the hall. They were all filled.

Having the eyes of twelve gods and goddesses instantly turn towards you was a feeling that Jisung never wanted to experience again in his life. Hades had been bad enough as is, but Hades and eleven others was suffocating. Jisung desperately focused on Dionysus, the one god there who he recognized. He had hoped Persephone would be present as well, but Jisung guessed she wasn’t one of the twelve Olympians that Chan had told him about so many weeks ago. Hades’s gaze was also manageable. It was the pair of eyes staring at him from the end of the hall that Jisung was trying his absolute hardest to ignore. He inched further towards to the others, the eight of them nearly on top of each other with how close they were all standing.

Chan, as always, stepped up. “Honored gods and goddesses,” he started, sinking into a low bow. Jisung and the rest hurriedly followed, “we come to you seeking answers in a matter the Fates themselves have decreed we resolve.” Chan raised himself from his bow, the others mirroring his action. The twelve gods and goddesses were still staring at the eight of them, expressions unreadable.

“And you see fit to seek these answers in the midst of our council?” Zeus’s voice was exactly as Jisung had expected: deep, commanding, powerful. God, how could he be the son of a man with a voice like that? But that was the point, Jisung supposed; Zeus wasn’t a man at all.

The throne beside Zeus was occupied by a woman Jisung could only assume was Hera, the goddess of marriage and birth and all the things which Zeus had directly disobeyed, Jisung the living proof of those failings. Her glare was sharp enough to sever heads.

“It is because you have called council that we have come to seek answers,” Chan replied to Zeus. Jisung didn’t know how the other was staying so calm. Jisung was sure his own voice would’ve been long gone by that point, but Chan was standing tall and speaking loudly.

“Then ask, boy!” A new voice echoed through the hall, just as powerful as Zeus’s but tinged with laughter. The god who spoke had long, black hair speckled with grey and deep crow’s feet. Chan was looking at him with something indescribable in his eyes.

 _Oh_ , Jisung thought, _that must be Poseidon._

Chan seemed to snap himself out of it after another moment, turning once more to face Zeus and Hera at the head of the gods. “We want to know why you have called a council. What has changed so drastically since our visit to the Underworld just yesterday morning?”

The gods were silent for a moment. Then, Hades spoke. “After the eight of you left, I inspected Tartarus. I discovered a crack in its gates.”

Tartarus was the Underworld prison for the worst of the worst, right? A crack in that prison sounded very, very bad to Jisung.

Hades continued, “it has since been fixed, but I believe that crack is what allowed the Spartoi to break into your camp. We have not yet discovered why a crack formed in Tartarus; hence, a council of the gods was called, and I was invited.” The faux sweetness lacing Hades’s last few words chilled Jisung to the bone. Changbin, on the other hand, was doing his best to keep the slight smirk on his face from becoming obvious.

“What about the Stymphalian birds?” Seungmin suddenly spoke up, voice loud and steady in the hall of gods. “What caused them to attack us?” He was staring directly at a goddess who had a helmet tucked under one of her arms; _Athena_.

Seungmin’s boldness sparked something in Jisung, and he found himself speaking up in a voice that did not waver nor crack. “And what about the Ketos?” Jisung’s voice gained an intensity and undercurrent he was not aware he possessed. “What about the Giants?” He met Zeus’s eyes.

Zeus was staring at him with something Jisung might have considered akin to pride. “We are unsure as to the cause of those events, as well. This is another matter the council has been called to investigate.”

“I hope you find an answer soon,” Chan spoke, and Jisung inhaled sharply at how his tone bordered on demanding. “Demigods,” Chan continued, “ _your children_ , are dying.”

The mood in the hall of the gods was dark and dense despite the bright light filling the space.

Eventually Poseidon spoke. “When we discover the answer, you will be the first to know.”

“I will hold you to that, Father.” Chan held Poseidon’s gaze. Jisung was filled with an incredible sense of pride for his friend; for the six other boys standing there with Chan, defiant in the face of gods.

Suddenly, Hades bolted to his feet, his eyes wide and almost fearful. _Fearful?_ Jisung was taken aback. What could scare a god?

He got his answer a moment later. The great hall began to shake violently, the decorative vases falling off their pedestals in a serious of loud crashes. The rest of the gods rose to their feet, looking around in confusion. Jisung was struggling to stay standing, leaning against Minho for support as the rest of the boys clustered together to keep each other upright.

“Olympians!” Hades’s voice was booming, and Jisung felt the extent of the god’s power in that single word. “Ready yourselves! The gates of Tartarus have broken. The Titans are free.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Teehee y'all thought the earth splitting in two line from Jisung's prophecy was the Spartoi earthquake but that wasn't the true meaning teehee :)))))))) Also, I think we're entering the final arc of this fic! There's definitely at least 4 chapters left, but we're getting close. Hope you all enjoyed this chapter and are pumped for these events to play out!
> 
> Y'all are getting two song recs today 'cause I couldn't chose! First is ["End of Spring" by Onewe](https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=MLqorz9OvEs) which gives me some serious 'it's going down, we're yelling timber' vibes. The second is ["yaya (Me Time)" by Subin](https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=BJD0arHF_5c) which is just an overall groovy song.
> 
> Continue to take care of yourselves and respect Covid-19 restrictions, continue to use your voice to advocate for change. [Here's](https://blacklivesmatters.carrd.co/) a link to a carrd that has a regularly updated list of ways to support the Black Lives Matter movement. Donate time, money, or simply your support; whatever you're able to give at this time. 
> 
> I love you all, and thank you so much for continuing to read!
> 
> (Also..... I might..... be working on a chat fic....... so maybe be on the lookout for that............)


	16. Fight or Flight

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> We're rapidly careening towards the end of this fic, which is wild! There's still a couple chapters to go, and I'm confident we'll pass 100,000 words (!!!!) before we hit the end. So strap in, y'all!

The moment the word “Titan” left Hades’s mouth, the Olympians sprang into action. Zeus was quick to head for the door of the temple, Poseidon and Hades a half-step behind him. Athena followed shortly after, along with a god wearing a boar’s head helmet who Jisung assumed was Ares. Hera and a beautiful goddess ( _Aphrodite, I think?_ ) made their way to the opposite end of the temple, heading out a back door Jisung hadn’t noticed earlier. The rest of the gods split themselves among the front door and the back door until only one god remained in the entrance hall with the eight frozen demigods, quickly shrinking down to match their size as he approached.

“You all have to leave, now,” Dionysus said, casting a worried gaze over the eight boys. “A battle between gods and Titans is no place for mortals.”

“We’re demigods,” Minho muttered, hand still tightly clasped in Jisung’s own.

“You’re mortals,” Dionysus reiterated, his gaze sharpening as he met Minho’s eyes. The other boy remained silent, though Jisung could feel him tensing.

“We have to get back to Seoul,” Chan said, nodding in agreement with Dionysus’s words.

“No.” At the god’s sharp rejection, Chan’s demeanor instantly changed. He had been holding himself tightly before, but now he was a coil nearly ready to snap.

“Why not?” Chan demanded.

“If the Titans have broken out of Tartarus, then they have broken into Seoul. It’s not safe for you there.”

“It’s not safe for Camp Half-Blood and the other demigods!” Chan protested. Jisung could see the vein along the side of his temple pulsating slightly.

“They aren’t wrapped up in this whole thing like you lot are!” Dionysus’s voice was raised to a volume near-shouting, and Jisung finally noticed that there was fear in his eyes as he stared straight at Minho.

“You think we’re being targeted?” Minho asked, his voice surprisingly calm.

“Creatures have come after you; specifically, you,” Dionysus answered, dragging his gaze across all eight boys. “If the eight of you were given a prophecy about this mess, what’s stopping the Titans from having their own prophecy?”

Another earthquake shook the grounds of the temple, rocking Jisung back into Minho and the others. Bits of white dust trickled down from the ceiling as cracks began to form in the temple walls.

Dionysus cursed. “You all have to leave, now. Before the Titans realize where you are.”

“Where do we even go?” Chan asked. He was still glaring at Dionysus, but Jisung recognized his actions as posturing. Chan had accepted that they wouldn’t be able to defend Camp Half-Blood, but he wasn’t happy about it.

A new voice cried out from the far end of the temple. “This way!”

Felix broke into a wide grin and took off at a sprint towards his mother. Persephone was gesturing to them all from the back door of the temple, her features fierce and determined.

“C’mon!” Felix tossed over his shoulder. His simple call kick-started Jisung into gear, and he ran after the other boy, dragging Minho along behind him. The others followed, Dionysus bringing up the rear, and Persephone ushered them all out of the crumbling temple.

“Olympus has many entrances,” Persephone explained as she led them down a white brick path. “The gods just like to use the one that is biggest and gaudiest.”

The eight boys were moving at a pace somewhere between a jog and a sprint, following Persephone past half-collapsed buildings and open-air pavilions with their pillars crumbling in on themselves. Everything was white and everything was decadent and everything was tumbling down. Jisung had let go of Minho’s hand to move unimpeded, though all eight boys stayed close together. The earthquakes were still coming, occurring closer and closer together with every passing second. Jisung struggled to keep his footing, bouncing up against the other boys and supporting them in turn. Dionysus followed behind them all at a hurried pace, casting glances over his shoulder every so often.

Persephone suddenly made a sharp right, veering off the white brick path and leading the rest down into a resplendent garden. Unlike the rest of Olympus, the garden showed little signs of stress from the now near-constant earthquakes. The wiry trees with their fruit-laden branches remained upright, roots sunk deep into the soil. The rainbow-spectrum heads of the flowers quivered but remained otherwise unbothered, bright and cheerful among the vibrant green. The grass hardly shifted with the earthquakes, each quick tremor taken up and spread amongst the soil so as to be nearly imperceptible.

As soon as all eight boys were surrounded by greenery, Jisung realized that Felix had begun to grin. The flowers turned to watch Felix as he passed, and even the trees seemed to angle their leaves towards him. Felix’s obvious comfort paired with the brief calm experienced in the garden tamped down some of Jisung’s anxiety. He could tell that the other boys were also feeling the rejuvenating effects of Persephone’s corner of Olympus.

“I have my own preferred entrance to Olympus, if I choose to use a door.” As Persephone spoke, she gathered the boys around a large tree that grew tall and wide, casting long shadows over the rest of the garden.

Dionysus grinned at Persephone. “Cheongsando Island. Nice. I doubt those Titan fucks will think to look for them there.”

“But what are we supposed to _do_?” Chan spoke again for the first time in minutes.

“You are supposed to stay safe,” Persephone said, as if it was the most obvious conclusion to be drawn.

“We can’t keep running forever,” Felix spoke softly to his mother, but his voice carried an undercurrent of steel.

“No offense, but you all would be killed by the Titans in a heartbeat,” Dionysus replied, his voice unusually flat.

“We took down the Ketos!” Minho protested.

“And we’ve survived much more than just it!” Hyunjin added.

“That was one monster against eight of you. The Titans number far more than just one,” Persephone replied in a voice equally as soft and equally as strong as Felix’s.

“So than what do we do?” Jisung echoed Chan’s question from earlier.

“You survive,” Dionysus replied.

“You survive,” Persephone echoed, waving a hand over the tree’s gnarled bark. The trunk of the tree shifted, the bark swirling and shifting and pulling back until, eventually, a doorway appeared in the middle of the tree.

“We’re supposed to do more than just survive,” Seungmin said, his voice frustrated.

“Aren’t we supposed to solve this mess?” Changbin added.

“You won’t solve anything if you’re dead.” Dionysus’s voice remained flat, but his eyes were awash with emotion.

“So we run away and do nothing?” Chan asked, voice bitter.

“You run away and plan,” Persephone responded, stepping back from the tree trunk. As she moved, a thin golden membrane began to stretch over the opening in the tree. It was the same consistency and color as the shimmer that had separated Lotte World Tower from Olympus.

“Plan what? How to defeat the Titans?” Jeongin’s voice was incredulous.

Dionysus finally cracked a smile. “Pretty much, yeah.”

“You’ve gotta be kidding me,” Changbin mumbled under his breath.

“Why can’t we just fight them now?” Hyunjin asked, his eyes hard and determined.

“They have taken us by surprise, this time. You must be the ones to surprise them if you hope to overcome them,” Persephone said. With one final wave of her hand, the thin golden membrane settled into place within the doorway in the tree. “Now, go. Survive. Come back only when you are sure you can win.”

“You can’t afford anything else. None of us can.” Dionysus added.

“This is what we have to do?” Felix asked, turning towards his mother. Persephone nodded, once, her face tense. Felix turned towards the tree. “Alright, then.”

“Before you go!” Persephone suddenly exclaimed. She stretched a hand up, and a great bough of the tree arched down to meet her. A single acorn was nestled among the leaves of the bough, and Persephone plucked it with swift fingers. The branch pulled back, up into the crown of the tree. She offered the acorn to Felix. “Here.”

“Thank you…?” Felix took the acorn, cradling it gently with both hands as he turned confused eyes towards his mother.

“I have been cultivating this tree for centuries, and it has been growing that seed for years. If you plant it, you will be able to grow whatever you need. Use it wisely.”

“Shit, now I gotta give them something too,” Dionysus mumbled, before turning to Minho. “Hey, kid. If you’re ever in trouble, just call for Dori.”

“Who the hell is Dori?” Minho asked.

“You’ll find out.” Dionysus shot Minho a familiar crooked grin, before gesturing at the door. “Now, you all really have to get out of here. But come back soon, alright?”

“We’ll try our best.” Chan gave one last solemn look towards Persephone and Dionysus, before turning and stepping through the trunk of the tree. Changbin was right behind him, and Hyunjin and Jeongin were quick to follow. Seungmin cast a quick look back towards the rest of Olympus before stepping through the golden membrane as well. Jisung followed his gaze, catching sight of the disintegrating structures of Olympus. Hadn’t these buildings been crafted by gods? What kind of force could cause such architecture to crumble?

Bringing his gaze back to the foreground, Jisung quickly looked away as Dionysus pulled Minho into a tight hug. Persephone had wrapped her arms around Felix just as tightly as he had his arms around her. This was not a moment for Jisung to witness, and so he stepped through the doorway in the tree trunk, feeling that familiar brief sensation of tingling before emerging in the middle of a yellow-flowered field at the edge of a small beachside town. The other five boys were gathered together, waiting in silence. Jisung quickly joined them, pressing himself close to Hyunjin and Changbin as he turned to stare at the shimmering patch of air he had just emerged from. A few moments later, Felix and Minho finally passed through the golden shimmer. As soon as the last of Minho’s jacket was through, the shimmer vanished. The eight boys were left alone in that field of yellow flowers. The only sounds were the gentle hum of insects, the faraway murmur of the tide, and a gentle rustling as wind passed through the field around them.

Hyunjin was first to break the silence. “This feels wrong.”

“What?” Chan asked.

“This; running away. It feels wrong.”

Jisung agreed with Hyunjin. As terrified as he was to face an actual Titan, it didn’t sit right with him that they were here, miles away from where the Olympians were battling the Titans. What about Brian, and the other demigods at Camp Half-Blood? What about the mortals? How many would be injured – would die? – as the eight of them sat here and tried to figure out how they were supposed to make everything right again?

“What could we do against Titans, though?” Jeongin asked, his eyebrows drawn low in concern.

“Not much,” Seungmin answered. He seemed distracted and was currently staring blankly at the ground. Jisung figured he was running Chan’s prophecy over in his head, trying desperately to find some new angle that would reveal how eight young demigods were supposed to end a Titan rebellion.

Silence reigned for a few more moments before Jisung spoke up. “Um, should we start planning?”

“Yeah, let’s do that,” Chan agreed. “The quicker we sort out what to do, the quicker we can get back to Seoul.”

“If there’s a Seoul to get back to,” Hyunjin mumbled, kicking at a small stone on the ground.

“There will be.” Changbin’s voice was firm and left no room for argument.

“It’s only been a few minutes since the Titans broke lose,” Minho added. “Even with their power, that’s not enough time to raze a whole city.”

“Especially since the Olympians are keeping them at bay!” Felix added.

“Maybe the Olympians can beat the Titans again? They did it before, right?” Jeongin asked hesitantly.

“The gods have grown lazy,” Minho stated. When the others turned to him, he shrugged. “That’s what my dad says. He says the gods have grown lazy, and complacent, and out of touch. They’re still having kids, obviously,” he gestured at the other boys, “but most of them have lost touch with the mortal world. They don’t really check up on their kids and they don’t really know how to function in the mortal realm.”

“So you’re saying the Olympians will lose,” Hyunjin stated.

Minho gave a half-hearted shrug. “I’m not saying anything is certain, but I think there’s a reason Chan got the prophecy he did.”

“Then we’d better figure ourselves the hell out,” Changbin stated, turning and heading off in the direction of a small dirt road bordering the flower field.

“Where–” Felix started, but was cut off by Changbin.

“The beach. I think we do our best planning there, and we need all the help we can get at this point.”

“Let’s go, then,” Chan said, heading off after Changbin. The others followed behind in silence. Seungmin still had his eyes firmly fixed on the ground, a small line creasing his forehead as he frowned. Hyunjin was also frowning, but the corners of his eyes had drooped in worry. Jeongin was nervously picking at the hem of his shirt, following closely behind Minho, who seemed rather unperturbed by everything. Jisung was certain he was putting up a front. Jisung and Felix were bringing up the rear of the group, walking close together although their hands remained unclasped.

As soon as they reached the beach, Changbin plopped himself down unceremoniously in the sand. Chan lowered himself with a bit more care beside him, and the others quickly circled up. Jisung ended up between Changbin and Felix, their knees brushing together.

“Okay, what do we have so far?” Chan asked, falling into place as their de facto leader.

“That ‘creeping mist’ part was the mist’s sickness,” Jeongin offered, eyes bright and eager to contribute however he could.

“That’s what allowed the monsters to be invisible,” Jisung tacked on.

“The mist was probably manipulated by the Titans,” Seungmin mumbled, his eyes still unfocused as he continued his mental puzzling out of the prophecy.

“How?” Hyunjin asked.

Seungmin returned his focus to the seven other boys around him with a couple blinks. “The Titans can’t have broken out of Tartarus all at once; the prison is too strong for that. They must have been working on this for a while. If Chan got his prophecy when he was nine – it was nine, right?” Chan nodded in response to Seungmin’s question, “then we have to assume that the Titans received a similar prophecy on their end around that time. The Fates like things to be balanced. The Titans have likely been working on breaking out of Tartarus since that point, and the process finally reached a noticeable stage at the beginning of this summer. How many of you were attacked by monsters before arriving at Camp Half-Blood?”

Jisung raised his hand. Minho, Changbin, and Chan also raised their hands. Seungmin continued, “The Big Three kids make sense; they’re natural targets for monsters. Minho, no offense, but as a son of Dionysus you wouldn’t have given off a very strong signature to monsters. And yet, you were attacked. Hyunjin and Felix, you arrived at camp early, likely before the Titans were able to track you down. Jeongin and I were lucky. But they found Jisung, all the way in Malaysia. That wasn’t on accident.”

Jisung’s mind was full of static. He had assumed being a son of Zeus – one of the Big Three – was what had drawn the Giant to him, and his mother. But Seungmin was reasoning that it was much more personal than that.

“So the Titans knew we were wrapped up in Chan’s prophecy?” Hyunjin asked. “Even that many years ago?”

“I think they had some idea,” Seungmin responded. “They just weren’t able to do much about it until this summer. I think that’s because they finally formed a crack big enough in Tartarus’s gates where they could have some influence on the outside world. Hence, the mist-obscured monsters that have been attacking us, and the Spartoi that were able to break into Camp Half-Blood.”

“What about the other demigods?” Jeongin asked. “The ones who never made it to camp?”

“This is all speculation,” Seungmin answered, “but I believe they were attacked in lieu of you or me.” Jeongin grew noticeably paler. “I think the Titans were having difficulty discerning who we were, exactly, and they were probably also getting a bit desperate to break out of Tartarus, being so close to their goal. So, they started attacking every demigod they could.”

“Oh gods,” Felix murmured, his eyes wide. Jisung’s stomach was turning over and over itself, and he was certain his hands were shaking.

After a moment of silence, Chan spoke up again. “Do we have any ideas about the rest of the prophecy?”

“Well, the Underworld definitely wasn’t the ‘final gate’ it mentioned,” Changbin said.

“I don’t think the gate to Olympus was it either,” Chan responded, frowning. “I have no clue what else it could refer to, though.”

“Then let’s move on to the next line: the clashing sun bit,” Minho said. “Anyone got anything?”

No one spoke. Minho continued. “Alright, then. There’s still something about the sky coming down, some heavenly voices, and a loss of gold. Any ideas?”

Again, there was only silence. Eventually, Seungmin spoke up. “I think there’s one key piece we’re still missing. One that should tie the rest of the prophecy together.”

“I don’t think ‘heavenly voices’ bit refers to the Olympians,” Jisung spoke up. The others turned to him. “I’m not sure why, I just don’t think that’s right. If we’re supposed to defeat the Titans, why would the Olympians be the final ‘heavenly voices’ that ensure peace?”

“You think we’re supposed to be the heavenly voices?” Chan asked.

“I dunno. I just don’t think it’s referring to the Olympians.” Jisung wasn’t quite sure why he believed so strongly that the Olympians were not included in Chan’s prophecy. He just knew that he was nearly certain that the Olympians would not be the ones to resolve the battle, in the end.

“I mean, we’re all demigods with voices, so maybe ‘heavenly’ means part-gods as well?” Felix offered.

Seungmin hummed. “I still think there’s more to it. If I could just figure out _what_ …”

Jisung could feel the frustration radiating off Seungmin in waves. The other boy had already figured out so much of the Titan’s motivation; Jisung was certain that Seungmin would draw conclusions from Chan’s prophecy eventually, given time. Jisung just wasn’t sure if they had much time to spare.

He tipped his head back, staring up into the clouds. Jisung was pretty certain Olympus wasn’t actually floating above all their heads right now, but nevertheless he scanned the sky for any sign of the battle he was sure was raging between the mortal and godly plains. It took him another couple of seconds of staring at the sky to realize the anomaly looking him in the face.

“Guys,” Jisung’s voice was hushed but urgent, and the others instantly turned to follow his pointing finger. At the end of Jisung’s raised arm were two bright suns, flickering as they pressed together, each compressing the other.

“The clashing suns,” Chan whispered.

“Apollos and Helios,” Seungmin whispered in return. “The Olympians have begun to fight the Titans.”

“But that means the sky’s going to start coming down, doesn’t it?” Changbin asked. The others instantly yanked their gazes from the dual suns, frantically scanning the horizons on all sides for evidence that the sky was beginning to fall upon the earth. They sky remained unchanged; blue and deep and dotted with occasional clouds. The only abnormality was the presence of two suns, largely unmoving above the western horizon.

Then, Jisung spotted a bump of something out towards the left of the suns. “What’s that?” Again, seven pairs of eyes followed his pointing finger.

“Jeju Island? I think?” Hyunjin responded. “If we’re on Cheongsando Island now, Jeju should be in that direction.”

“That bump’s probably Hallasan; it’s the tallest mountain in Korea.” Chan elaborated.

Suddenly, Seungmin bolted to his feet, letting out an emphatic “shit!” as he did so. The others were quick to follow his movement, even if they weren’t sure why they were standing.

“The sky borne by one,” Seungmin stated, staring off towards Jeju Island. “That’s Atlas.”

“Oh fuck,” Minho stated, gaze fixed on the slight peak on the horizon.

Even if Jisung didn’t know much about Greek mythology, he knew about Atlas. _Everyone_ knew about Atlas: he who held the sky apart from the earth. Jisung also remembered learning somewhere that Atlas was a Titan, ordered to carry the sky on his back for the rest of eternity as punishment for rising against the Olympians. If the Olympians were fighting the Titans again now, then that meant…

“Atlas might get free,” Chan summarized Jisung’s thoughts in a neat, terrifying package. “Seungmin, do you think he’s at Hallasan?”

“It’s the tallest point in Korea. In the myths, Atlas was said to be at the furthest western end of the world, but I think in reality there’s probably multiple points in space that he occupies, just as there are multiple points into Olympus and the Underworld. Since Korea had both of the latter, I’m betting it also has access to the place where Atlas hold up the sky, and I’d bet that place is Hallasan.”

“We have to get over there,” Changbin stated.

“It’s across the ocean?” Hyunjin questioned. At that, Jisung instinctively turned towards Chan. The other boy was already looking between the eight boys and the far-off mountain peak.

“Do you think…?” Jisung asked Chan, his question trailing off at the end. It was a huge ask. Chan could probably get himself over to Jeju Island, but to take seven others along with him? The amount of power that would take would be overwhelming.

“I can,” Chan confirmed, grimacing to himself. “I have to. But I’m gonna be pretty useless once we get over there.

“We’ll cover for you,” Changbin said with surety in his voice. The other boys nodded.

“Then we’d better get started,” Chan said, leading them down the sand towards the beach. They weren’t exactly facing Jeju Island, but Jisung was confidant in Chan’s abilities to navigate them there.

“It’s gonna feel a bit weird,” Chan started, walking out into the surf. Jisung and the others hesitantly followed. “I’m going to get the water to carry us all along; you just have to let it do it’s thing. I’ll make sure you have little air bubbles around your heads, and I’ll try to keep you and your bags dry, but no promises. Just, try to stay as still as possible.”

“We believe in you, Chan,” Felix promised, wading further into the ocean.

“Let’s go Chan!” Jeongin cheered, the rest offering their own versions of support. Chan seemed to brighten a bit more with each word said, his hesitant determination solidifying into an unshakeable faith.

“Everyone ready?’ Chan asked once they were all treading water a ways out from shore. Jisung nodded, the other boys also providing their assent. “Then let’s go.”

Jisung let his body relax, slipping under the waves. As he did so, a large air bubble wrapped itself around his head, and he found he could breathe without trouble. The other boys were similarly ensconced in bubbles, though Chan himself didn’t need any such aid under the water.

 _Can you all hear me?_ Chan’s voice echoed inside Jisung’s head, and Jisung started with as much of a jerking sensation as he could manage under the water.

 _What the fuck?_ Minho’s voice was nearly deafening, though Jisung hadn’t seen him move his mouth.

 _Um, ow._ Changbin’s voice was next to float through Jisung’s head, and he could see the other boy rubbing at his ears as if that would retroactively help correct Minho’s volume overload.

 _It’s a son of Poseidon thing, I think,_ Chan explained, his mouth still not moving. _We can communicate through the water? Somehow? I don’t know how it works, I just know that it does._

 _Fascinating._ Seungmin’s voice was soft and light, and Jisung smiled to himself at the curiosity inherent in his statement.

 _This is so cool!_ Felix, as usual, was in awe of Chan’s new ability. Hyunjin and Jeongin, too, were nodding along in response to Felix’s remark, eyes wide.

 _We’re good, Chan_ , Jisung added.

Chan shot him a small, thankful smile, before addressing the group at large. _Alright. Remember, try to stay as still as possible; relax your muscles and just let the water carry you. Alright? Alright, let’s go._

Jisung began moving, the water pushing behind him and carrying him through the ocean. He kept his arms pressed to his sides and his legs together, trying his best to think soothing thoughts to keep himself from tensing up. Looking around himself, he took stock of the others. The younger ones looked absolutely enraptured by their current states. Jisung felt their excitement rubbing off on him. Changbin and Minho looked a bit more hesitant about the whole scenario, but they were both holding still, trusting that Chan would carry them safely to Jeju Island. Chan himself was cutting swiftly through the water ahead of all of them, his hands outstretched in front of his body to form a triangular shape. The water sluiced around him, and Jisung could see the veins in his arm popping out as he directed the water to propel eight bodies at an insane speed.

 _Chan’s amazing_ , Jisung realized, not for this first time.

He had forgotten momentarily about the psychic-water link and was embarrassingly reminded of this fact when Jeongin responded with an emphatic, _I know!_

Jisung saw the tips of Chan’s ears color, but the tightness in his arms relaxed, and the water seemed to pull them forward a bit faster. In another couple of minutes, Jisung noticed the ocean floor starting to become visible, sloping up to meet them as they approached the beach of Jeju Island. Once the water was shallow enough, Chan relaxed his control over the ocean, and Jisung sank his feet gently into the soft sand below him, the bubble around his head bursting as he breached the water’s surface. The rest of the boys popped up out of the water around him.

Jisung’s first thought was to turn to Chan. “Chan, are you okay?”

The boy in question was breathing heavily, his shoulders slumped over as he let the ocean support most of his weight.

“I’ll be fine,” Chan replied.

“You’re eating a full ambrosia cube this time,” Felix stated. His tone left no room for discussion, and Chan nodded briefly at him.

“Isn’t it dangerous to eat too much?” Hyunjin asked hesitantly.

“It can be,” Seungmin replied. “Eating too much can burn you from the inside out. Mortals aren’t made for godly food, and demigods can only handle it in small portions. But Chan should be fine.”

“If Atlas really is at the top of that mountain, Chan’s gonna need all the strength he can get,” Changbin added. As he spoke, Jisung turned his gaze up towards the top of Hallasan. It might’ve just been his imagination, but Jisung could’ve sworn there was some sort of swirling disturbance at its peak.

Apparently, it wasn’t all in Jisung’s mind, as Jeongin said, “um, guys? Is that the sky coming down?”

Chan, for all his apparent exhaustion, instantly straightened the moment he caught sight of what Jeongin was pointing to. “Let’s go.”

All eight boys waded out of the water. True to his word, Chan had managed to keep them dry, and Jisung was thankful to not be water-logged and salt-sticky when they still had a whole mountain to summit.

As soon as they were fully out of the water, Chan took out the small baggie of ambrosia and popped a whole cube into his mouth. The fatigue instantly faded from his demeanor, but Chan still looked rather haggard.

Before any of the other boys could speak, he stated, “I’ll be fine. But, we only have about a cube and a half left.” Sure enough, as Chan held the bag aloft, Jisung saw that there was indeed one and a bit cubes sitting in the bottom of the bag.

“No one else is allowed to get injured or overwork themselves!” Minho’s tone was bright, but his eyes were serious as he looked around at the other boys.

“We’re heading into end game territory, right?” Felix asked quietly. His words sunk into the air, dragging down around the boys.

“I think we are,” Changbin confirmed.

“Our only option is to win,” Seungmin stated.

“So, let’s start climbing,” Chan finished, starting up the beach towards the base of the mountain.

Jisung had never climbed a mountain before. He had gone on hikes, sure, and had climbed small hills, but never a mountain. He had never hiked on a time crunch, either. There was a path up the mountain – closed to visitors today due to unnatural weather, though the eight boys easily made their way around the scant security measures in place – and a trailhead sign had read that it would take around two and a half hours to summit Hallasan. At the rate they were going, Jisung would be surprised if it took them more than an hour to reach the peak. They were demigods, with the endurance of demigods. More importantly, they were motivated. Jisung only had to look up and see the sky swirling down towards the top of Hallasan – each time moving a bit faster – for his adrenaline to peak and his legs to grow stronger.

No one spoke on the way up, but their ragged breathing filled the air. _Will we even be in a state to fight a Titan once we make it to the top?_ Jisung wondered. He was glad his thoughts weren’t projected to the others now that they were back on land. He didn’t want his own doubts weighting the others down. But, Seungmin had been right earlier. Their only option was to win. So Jisung kept climbing, and he kept his worries to himself.

Just about fifty-three minutes from when they had set out, the boys reached the top of Hallasan. The sky above the mountain’s peak was swirling rapidly now and starting to funnel downwards in a twister-shape. There was no sign of Atlas, but Jisung was quick to notice that familiar golden shimmer stretched around the rim of the peak at the border where the hiking trail ended and the rough decline down to a lake began.

Jisung announced his finding to the rest of the group. “There’s another border.”

“I think we all know what’s on the other side of this one.” Minho, again, tried for a lighter tone. Again, his eyes were serious, and his hands were tightened to fists at his side.

Chan drew his sword. “Everyone ready?”

“Ready,” Jisung responded. His own sword was heavy in his right hand, but familiar, now. The other boys echoed his sentiment. Then, together, they stepped forward through the shimmering golden barrier.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Tune in next week for Stray Kids versus Atlas! A match for the ages.
> 
> Also! If any of y'all are into chatfics, I finally caved and made one called "The Jarem" which features skz living in NYC and going from strangers to friends after responding to a sign soliciting friendship that Jisung made. It's got a little bit of plot and a lot of memes, so check that out if it's something you think you'd be interested it! However, Run Through the Middle will continue to remain my priority!
> 
> Today's song is ["Day and Night" by Day6](https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=x4rERCAUID8), who truly have no bad songs, it's kind of amazing. This is my favorite off The Demon album, though! 
> 
> I hope you all continue to stay safe and healthy! Continue to support the [BLM movement](https://blacklivesmatters.carrd.co/) however you can. Continue to be kind to one another. Thank you all so much for reading, and I'll see you all next week!


	17. The Garden at the End of the World

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Y'all God's Menu has got me Dead. I Am Deceased. I'm posting this from the Underworld, rip all of us Stays.
> 
> (I am pretty proud of how this chapter turned out, though! So I hope you all enjoy. <3)

The tingling sensation stuck to Jisung’s skin long after he had passed through the thin golden membrane and into the garden at the end of the world. The feeling might’ve been anticipation. It might’ve been fear. It might’ve been the sudden understanding that the eight of them were moving faster and faster towards the end of something Jisung couldn’t put a name to. Whatever it was, it sank into Jisung’s being, causing a light hum to shiver beneath the raised goosebumps on his arms. Electricity was thrumming in his veins and he was certain he could use it, now.

The other boys were spread out on either side of him, Chan to his immediate left and Changbin to his right. The three of them were at the approximate center of a loose angle, the others standing shoulder-near-shoulder in an approximation of a V formation. Seungmin was to the left of Chan, with Minho beyond him. Jeongin stood to Changbin’s right. Hyunjin and Felix capped the ends, both standing with bows drawn and aimed at the obvious target filling Jisung’s vision.

Atlas was an imposing figure. He was half-bent over, but Jisung was certain that Atlas would stand at four times his own height should the Titan straighten. He was built like a bull with a broad chest and broad arms, tree-trunk legs bearing the weight of not only his body, but the entirety of the heavenly spheres. Atlas’s back was to them, so Jisung could only imagine the look of absolute concentration and pain likely present on his downturned face as he supported the sky.

For a moment, Jisung felt pity for Atlas. Surely whatever he did wasn’t deserving of a fate such as this: stuck here for eternity, constantly straining to prevent himself from being crushed; trapped. The Titans had fought the Olympians before, and for what reason? Were the Titans so evil? Were the Olympians so just?

Jisung snapped himself out of his thoughts. He could focus on the moral quagmire of mythology later. For now, he had to make sure the entire world didn’t end up crushed by a falling sky. As Jisung focused back on Atlas, he noticed the Titan wasn’t staring at the ground as he had originally assumed. Instead, Atlas’s head was tipped up towards the sky. Jisung followed his line of sight up and out towards the two suns hanging low in the sky. A moment passed where the eight boys watched the Titan contemplate the sky. Then, Atlas rolled his shoulders back.

Seungmin was moving before Jisung even realized what was happening, letting out a low curse as he sprinted towards the spot where a now unsupported sky was quickly funneling down towards the ground. Atlas was standing at his full height now, unburdened for the first time in centuries. The Titan took a few large steps forward before pausing, as if finally becoming aware of the eight other presences in his isolated corner of the world. Atlas started to turn right as Seungmin slid underneath the falling sky, taking it upon his own slender shoulders, and the seven other boys lurched forward as one.

“Seungmin!” Jeongin cried at the same time Chan let out a strained “Atlas!”

Jisung didn’t say anything. He poured his entire being into moving forward. Whether he was moving towards Seungmin or Atlas, he wasn’t yet sure.

Atlas had fully turned around now and regarded the eight of them with a kind of bemusement. “Godlings,” he said, and his voice was deep and rough and _old_.

“You can’t fucking drop the sky like that!” Minho snarled, and Jisung’s heart lurched at his blatant lack of self-preservation.

“By order of who?” replied Atlas, spreading his arms wide and tipping his head up towards the double-sun sky. “There is no one to stop me. The gods are otherwise occupied.” The smile on Atlas’s face was cold and cruel and whatever pity Jisung had harbored for the Titan dried up in that instant.

“Uh, by the fact that everyone will get crushed?” Hyunjin spat.

“Including you!” Felix added. Jisung didn’t know if they were brave, or foolish. He hoped fervently it was the former.

“I will survive,” Atlas replied. “I cannot say the same for you mortals. This one here will not last much longer as it is.”

At Atlas’s gesture, all attention was immediately returned to Seungmin, who was still struggling to support the sky on his own. Seungmin’s eyes were closed, and his mouth was drawn into a thin line. His entire body was shaking, and his feet were planted wide and firmly sunk into the soft soil beneath him. A thin streak of grey was starting to thread itself through his hair.

Jisung instantly reached out to help Seungmin, but soon found he could not move any closer to the other boy without jeopardizing them both due to the shifting sky above them.

“It can only be one,” Chan whispered, hovering beside Jisung with his hands outstretched as if to support Seungmin. “The prophecy…”

The words instantly flashed into Jisung’s mind:

_…will bring down sky lest borne by one…_

“Only one being can support the heavenly bodies at a time,” Atlas confirmed. “The Olympians were rather averse to teamwork.” He spat out ‘Olympians’ like it was a curse, his face twisting into something terrifying for a brief moment.

“You can’t do this,” Changbin spoke, his eyes fixed on Seungmin’s form.

“I already have.” Atlas responded, turning back from the eight boys and starting towards the barrier that lead to the mortal world.

“Come back, now.” Jisung’s own voice surprised himself. It was the same authoritative tone he’d used to clear the others before electrifying the Ketos. It was the voice of one with god-blood. It caused Atlas to turn and face him with a single brow raised, a few feet from the border.

“Why should I? Are _you_ going to make me?” Atlas laughed to himself, sweeping his eyes derisively over the eight of them.

“We are.” Chan’s voice, too, was dripping with power. Jisung didn’t know where the other boy was pulling it from; by all rights he should be exhausted after ferrying them miles across the ocean. Yet Chan was standing tall, already beginning to draw water up from the nearby lake.

Atlas’s expression shifted from amusement to something darker, something feral. “Excellent. I have not fought in so long, though I suppose you all will be nothing more than a warmup.”

“Keep him on the periphery,” Chan instructed softly, his trident pointed towards Atlas.

Jisung understood what Chan meant when the other boy let his eyes flicker to where Seungmin was supporting the sky. If Atlas forced Seungmin out, the entirety of the celestial bodies would collapse, and all eight boys would be crushed. They had to keep Atlas away from the center of the garden.

As Jisung let his gaze flash back to Seungmin, he also realized that the other boy would not be able to support the sky for much longer. Seungmin’s shaking had grown more pronounced, and the thin line of his mouth had been stretched into something excruciating. The grey streak in his hair was now thick and prominent.

“Guys, we need to tag team,” Jisung urged the others, gesturing back at Seungmin.

“I got it!” Jeongin was quick to step up, all but pushing Seungmin out from under the sky and leaving no room for argument as their youngest took the entirety of the heavens upon his shoulders. Jeongin let out a low moan as the sky settled upon him, but his face was determined, and his eyes were focused as they bore into the ground at his feet. A thin streak of grey began to weave itself among his black hair.

“Fuck,” Seungmin moaned, his arms dropping limply to his sides as he quickly took stock of the situation at hand. Jisung watched him size up Atlas, Jeongin’s position under the sky, and the other’s drawn weapons. “Fuck,” he repeated, before drawing his own spear.

“You good?” Hyunjin asked, bow steady and aimed at Atlas’s head.

“I’m fine,” Seungmin murmured in response, his spear similarly aimed at Atlas.

The two parties stood in stalemate for a moment longer. Neither Hyunjin nor Felix fired their bow, and Atlas made no move towards the others. They simply stared at each other; muscles taut enough to snap.

Eventually, Seungmin spoke up, his voice barely above a whisper. “He’s trying to stall us out; force us to support the sky until we all tire. We have to move first.”

Jisung watched as Hyunjin and Felix made eye contact. Felix gave the barest hint of a nod, and in the next second both boys were loosing arrows from their bows, each aimed straight at Atlas’s head in a maneuver similar to when they had blinded the Ketos.

Atlas swatted the arrows down a half-second before they found their mark, grinning at them as he did so. “Try a bit harder, if you would.” Then, he began to move forward.

“Changbin!” Chan yelled, twisting his water into a sturdy rope that wrapped around one of Atlas’s legs. Changbin, in response, clenched his fists, and the shadows below Atlas encircled his other leg. With Atlas momentarily distracted, Hyunjin and Felix shot off another volley of arrows. Although Atlas was able to jerk away from these, too, a thin golden stripe appeared high on his cheekbone as the arrows passed him by. The Titan raised two fingers to the cut, staring at his golden blood with something akin to wonder. _Ichor_ , a little voice in Jisung’s head that sounded suspiciously like Seungmin identified the golden blood.

“Better,” Atlas grinned at them, and took another step forward. His progress was slowed by the water and shadows wrapped around his legs, but he was still moving towards them.

“Felix!” Chan commanded, and Felix instantly threw down his bow and buried his hands in the dirt at his feet. Great, rope-like vines burst from the ground in the space directly in front of Atlas, climbing their way up and around his lower legs and ensnaring him. Sharp thorns began to spring from the vines, digging into Atlas’s skin and drawing small streams of gold from his calves.

“Chan, drown him,” Seungmin ordered. “Changbin, blind him. Jisung, fry him. Hyunjin, aim for his face or hands; tap out Jeongin when you’re out of arrows. Minho, you’re with me; we’re going for the Achilles heels.”

“Seungmin, don’t –” Chan’s words fell on deaf ears as Seungmin took off towards where Atlas was working to untangle himself from the briar patch at his feet. Minho followed a half-step behind Seungmin, whooping as he went. Chan was left to grit his teeth and focus on bringing a solid sphere of water up and around Atlas’s head as Changbin wove shadows around his eyes and ears and Hyunjin shot arrow after arrow towards the Titan.

As Jisung watched Seungmin and Minho rush directly towards danger, he was filled with a sickening sense of déjà vu. _This is different, though_ , he thought. This was a planned, purposeful action. It had to be different from their battle with the Ketos. Besides, Jisung couldn’t allow himself to get distracted now. He had to focus on contributing to this fight.

Taking a deep breath, Jisung tried to ground himself in the feeling he’d experienced right before electrocuting the Ketos. Back then, de had tried to think of his mom, first, but that had produced no more than sparks. He wasn’t angry about that anymore. At least, he didn’t feel strongly enough about it for that to be a catalyst of his lightning. He had begun to make peace with the fact that his mom was gone, and that had brought him comfort, but it also meant that the emotional well he had drawn from as fuel for his godly powers was dry. That was a good thing, Jisung was pretty sure. But it had meant that he needed to turn to another source for inspiration.

Now, facing down Atlas, Jisung thought of the seven other boys around him. There was Jeongin in the periphery of his vision, hair growing grey as he struggled under the weight of the sky. Hyunjin was nearby, firing the last of his arrows with perfect aim into the center of Atlas’s outstretched hand before throwing his bow down and forcing Jeongin out from beneath the falling sky. A little to Jisung’s right was Felix, bow lying abandoned beside him as he dug his fingers into the soil, coaxing an army of green up and out towards the Titan. A few steps in front of Jisung stood Chan and Changbin, standing shoulder to shoulder as they manipulated their respective elements against the struggling Titan beyond them. Rapidly approaching Atlas’s great legs were Minho and Seungmin, sword and spear at the ready.

Jisung was fighting to save the world, yes. Mostly, though, he was fighting for these seven boys.

Sparks began to form at Jisung’s fingertips. He could feel his hair stand on end as small static shocks travelled across his body. He felt _alive_ , the power of a summer storm slicing through his veins. Chan was speaking, likely telling Jeongin how best to help, but all Jisung could hear was a steady electrical hum filling his ears. He stepped forward, passing around Chan and Changbin as he moved with increasing speed towards the Titan ahead of him.

Atlas had begun to struggle, clawing at his eyes and mouth with hands that dripped golden ichor. His legs were still entangled in Felix’s vines, and his head was still encased in Chan’s globe of water. Threads of Changbin’s shadows were wrapped around his eyes and ears. Yet Atlas’s frantic movements were working. The vines at his feet were giving way, and the water around his head was further dispersed with every sweep of his hands. Then, Minho and Seungmin reached him.

Minho arrived first despite having followed after Seungmin. He swept his sword in a wicked arc towards the back of Atlas’s leg, taking a chunk out of the back of his heel. Seungmin followed shortly behind Minho, the sharp head of his spear piercing through the skin just behind Atlas’s ankle. Atlas let out a roar as the weapons made contact, the sound muffled as water rushed in to fill his open mouth.

As soon as the first cut was made, Minho went back for another, again bringing his blade down against the Titan’s heel. Seungmin, too, was punching hole after hole into the back of the Titan’s foot. Jisung reached them a second later. He had not drawn his own sword, but what use was a sword when you yourself were a living weapon? Once he was positive neither Minho nor Seungmin were going in for another swing, Jisung reached out and pressed his hands up against Atlas’s leg.

For a moment, everything went perfectly. Electricity arced up Atlas’s leg and danced over his body, leaving behind the nauseating smell of burnt flesh. Unlike with the Ketos, Jisung was better able to control his lightning, making sure to not push himself to the point of unconsciousness. Atlas let out another muffled scream, the sound entwining with the sizzling of his skin. Then, he lashed out.

Atlas must have been able to sense the three demigods near him, or else he had been able to claw some of Changbin’s shadow from his eyes, as he struck with precision and speed. One great arm swept down, knocking into Minho and sending the boy sprawling backwards, sword flying from his hands. Atlas’s other arm caught both Seungmin and Jisung in its arc. Jisung felt all the air leave his body as his lungs were pressed back against the cage of his ribs. One of his ribs might’ve cracked; he couldn’t be sure. In the next instant, he was being flung backwards, ending up in a crumpled pile next to Seungmin. Jisung’s head bounced against a large, flat stone as he landed.

He wasn’t quite sure how to breath. Jisung was certain he had known at some point, but it hurt when his lungs expanded, and it hurt when they deflated, and the world was a bit hazy. Some collection of time passed, and then Jisung felt his arm being grasped tightly as he was pulled to his feet. His own hazy eyes met the sharp, focused gaze of Jeongin for half a second before the other boy was pulling Jisung and Seungmin back towards the center of the garden at inhumane speeds, depositing them at the feet of who Jisung could only assume was either Chan or Changbin before disappearing with a small gust of wind and reappearing a second later with Minho.

Jisung was confused. Why was he back here, with the others? Hadn’t he just been at Atlas’s feet? And how had Minho appeared so suddenly?

In another moment, Hyunjin was kneeling beside him with a new grey streak in his hair, and Jisung’s confusion doubled. Hadn’t Hyunjin been holding the sky up? When Jisung turned to look – and god, if that action didn’t send sharp spikes of pain through his head – he saw that Felix was supporting the sky in Hyunjin’s place. Felix, too, was starting to sport a grey streak in his hair.

“Eat this,” Hyunjin was murmuring, and Jisung was confused and he was in pain, but he trusted Hyunjin, so he opened his mouth and obediently chewed the small bit of something Hyunjin placed there. A moment later, Jisung gained clarity.

“We can’t spare much,” Hyunjin murmured as he placed another morsel of ambrosia into Seungmin’s mouth before moving towards Minho, “but I can at least do this much.”

Jisung’s body still hurt. He was fairly certain he had cracked a rib, and the ambrosia hadn’t seemed to do anything about that. But his head was clear, now. He could see Seungmin and Minho coming out of their own dazed states. He could see Chan and Changbin struggling to hold a nearly freed Atlas in place long enough for Jeongin to collect the weapons abandoned at the Titan’s feet and rush back to them. He could see Felix, jaw clenched as he supported the entirety of the sky upon his back.

“We need a different tactic,” Seungmin said as soon as the haze disappeared from his eyes. “We can’t match him on a purely physical level.”

Minho was eyeing Atlas with a calculating look in his gaze. “What about mental?”

Jisung, Hyunjin, and Seungmin all turned towards him. “What?” Hyunjin asked.

“He’s been holding up the sky for years; that doesn’t do much in terms of mental stimulation,” Minho expanded on his earlier thought.

“You think you can get him to go mad?” Seungmin asked.

Minho’s gaze slid towards Hyunjin. “With some persuasion.”

Hyunjin broke into a grin. “My pleasure.”

Hyunjin helped Minho to his feet, before addressing Changbin and Chan. “Free his head. I need him to hear me.”

Chan caught on in an instant, immediately lowering his water sphere to tighten around Atlas’s knees. With a quick nudge, Changbin, too, wrapped his shadows around the Titan’s knees. With his head now free, Atlas turned towards the demigods with a vicious snarl.

“Atlas!” Hyunjin shouted, taking a few steps forward. “I think you should stay right there!” His voice was laced with that smooth, satiny texture that he had used on the security guard at Lotte World. It made Atlas pause, his face not quite smoothing all the way out as some of the rage disappeared from his features.

Minho stepped up beside Hyunjin, his gaze focused and his arms outstretched as Hyunjin continued to speak to the Titan. Jisung was distracted from what Hyunjin was saying by a nearly imperceptible whimper behind him.

Jisung turned in a flash. Felix was bowed over by the sky, the grey streak in his hair thickening by the second. His eyes were screwed shut in agony.

“Felix!” Jisung cried, moving to the other in three long strides. With any further thoughts, Jisung shouldered his way underneath the apex of the sky, pushing Felix out from where he was struggling.

Instantly, he was forced nearly to his knees. His battered lungs screamed in protest as the weight of the sky pushed down upon Jisung. He could feel his shoulders shaking, his knees shaking, his body shaking. But he could not drop this burden. Seungmin had borne this sky – Jeongin had, Hyunjin had, Felix had. Jisung, too, would take his turn. He had survived far worse things than this.

The sky, ironically, was suffocating. Jisung felt his breathing grow shallow, and he forced his lungs to breathe deeper despite the pain from his bruised ribs. His feet were firmly planted into the indentions the other boys had formed in the soil, and he took comfort in the feeling of standing where they stood. Was a grey streak forming in his own hair? How much time had passed? Had Hyunjin and Minho managed to wrest Atlas under their control?

Jisung wasn’t aware of anything outside of himself, the air swirling above him, and the impossible heaviness pressing down between his shoulder blades. Maybe minutes had passed. Maybe seconds. Maybe he had spent an eternity here, and he would emerge and find the others long gone. _No_ , that wouldn’t happen. The others would never leave him, Jisung was certain of that. But he felt himself growing weaker. The tremor in his limbs grew more pronounced, and the weight of the sky pushed him further into the ground. Jisung knew his body couldn’t take much more.

Nearly as soon as he’d had that thought, someone’s shoulders were easing their way under the apex of the sky, gently pushing Jisung out as they did so. Jisung nearly collapsed to his knees as the burden left his shoulders, and he turned back to see Changbin staring determinedly at the ground, the sky resting upon his back. After another moment, Jisung found he could straighten back to his full height and he did so, turning back towards where Atlas was frozen mid-step towards the eight demigods, his eyes enraged but foggy.

“I think we have him,” Minho ground out, a slight shake evident in his still-outstretched hands.

“Dunno for how long,” Hyunjin whispered, staring intently at Atlas.

“We need a finishing blow,” Seungmin stated.

“Can we even kill him?” Chan questioned.

“I don’t think so,” Seungmin responded. “But I think, if we weaken him enough, we can trap him back in the underworld.” All eyes turned to Changbin, who was still holding the sky up as grey began to color his hair.

“Then let’s cause some damage,” Felix grabbed his bow from the ground, splitting his quiver with Hyunjin as the other boy grabbed his own bow. Jeongin began to pull his throwing knives from his belt. Seungmin reaching into one of his pockets, drawing out a small eraser that quickly grew and elongated into a javelin.

Minho moved towards Atlas, but Chan held him back with a firm hand wrapped around his arm. “You’re not going near him again.”

“Fair enough,” Minho stated, before shouting out, “Hey! Dori! Whoever you are! A little help?”

Jisung watched as, the second Minho had finished speaking, the back of his bomber jacket began to shift and move. The leopard that had been embroidered into the back of his jacket was slowly peeling itself up and off the fabric, growing in size and dimension as it did so. In another moment, it stood before them all, well over double the size of a normal leopard. It passed inquisitive eyes over the boys before settling its gaze on Minho.

“Dori?” Minho whispered. The leopard gave a low, dark purr in response. Minho’s face split into a grin reminiscent of the giant cat before him. “Fuck yeah. Dori, if you would please: do some fucking damage.”

At Minho’s command, the leopard sprang forward, advancing swiftly towards Atlas. The Titan had begun to move forward once more, but he was hampered by the bleeding wounds at the back of his legs and the lingering fogginess in his head.

“Minho, get Changbin!” Seungmin ordered, throwing his javelin towards Atlas as he spoke. The javelin pierced the side of the Titan, drawing another stream of ichor forth. Seungmin once again reached into his pocket, drawing another eraser which soon turned javelin.

Hyunjin and Felix had collectively decided to aim for Atlas’s face once more, firing arrow after arrow towards his eyes without needing to confirm their target with words. Jeongin was using Atlas as his personal pincushion, flinging dagger after dagger at the Titan. Chan was lashing thin strips of water across Atlas’s entire body, drawing angry golden lines everywhere his water whips landed.

Dori soon reached Atlas, and she raked her great claws against his calves before sinking her teeth behind his left knee, tearing out a chunk of flesh as she nimble leapt away from his flailing arms. She then advanced to his opposite leg, pulling the same maneuver and causing Atlas to drop to his knees.

Jisung’s hands began to spark once more, and with a shout he flung them outwards, lightning arcing out from him and crackling through Chan’s water whips to pierce into the Titan’s trunk. Jisung sent another bolt following the first, and a third after that. He was running purely on adrenaline now, nothing in his head but the need to act alongside these other boys, to keep them safe from the Titan screaming out in front of them.

A moment later, Changbin stumbled up to them, hands already outstretched as he started to pull shadows towards Atlas.

“You need to pull him down!” Seungmin instructed, flinging another javelin into Atlas’s thigh. Atlas howled in response, bitter and full of wrath. “We need to lock him back up in Tartarus.”

“I don’t even know if I can do that!” Changbin protested, eyes wide and voice tight.

“You can.” Chan’s voice was so sure, so unwavering in his faith in Changbin.

Changbin cursed, a low “shit,” before losing his grip on the shadows. He then dropped to his knees, digging his hands into the soil much like Felix had done earlier. Jisung watched Changbin work from the corner of his eye, most of his attention still focused on flinging lightning towards the Titan. Jisung watched as a crack began to snake through the ground from Changbin’s buried hands out to where Atlas was still trying to fend off Dori while enduring the attacks from the other boys.

“The leopard…” Changbin ground out.

“I’ll get Minho,” Chan replied, pressing one last lash against the Titan before sprinting back to where Minho was shouldering the burden of the sky. Minho came stumbling towards them a second later, a new grey streak evident in his dark hair. He quickly took stock of Changbin on the ground, the others flinging everything they had towards Atlas, and the leopard dancing around the Titan as cracks began to spread in the ground underneath.

“Dori! To me!” Minho shouted, and Dori immediately turned and bounded back towards him. She shrunk as she ran, and by the time she reached Minho she was barely the length of two hands. She slipped onto the back of Minho’s jacket with ease, flattening out into the familiar embroidered leopard with a soft purr.

The cracks beneath Atlas continued to grow, until eventually the Titan was sinking down into the ground.

“Changbin! You’re doing it!” Jisung shouted. The bursts of lightning he continued to fling were growing thinner and thinner, but he kept pulling the static from his bones, forcing everything he had out and into the air as a crackling string of electricity.

“Almost there!” Felix cheered, the last of his arrows scraping across Atlas’s cheek. Hyunjin, too, had once more run out of arrows, and he flung himself down onto the ground to press his hands against Changbin. Jisung dropped down too, and the rest of the boys soon followed.

Although Jisung didn’t lay his hands across Changbin’s back as Hyunjin had, he focused his being on sending whatever energy he had left to aid Changbin in the other’s attempt at forcing Atlas down into the underworld. Jisung wasn’t sure if the gates of Tartarus were still open after the Titans had escaped. Surely Hades had closed them by now, right? He had been one of the first to leave the temple of the gods in Olympus; he had to have made sure as few Titans escaped Tartarus as possible.

 _I guess we’ll find out soon enough_ , Jisung thought as Changbin continued to force Atlas down into the ground. The Titan was struggling, screaming insults and curses at the demigods. Yet he was still being pulled down. Beads of sweat were running down Changbin’s temple and falling from the tip of his nose. Jisung didn’t dare dab at his face and risk breaking the other’s concentration. Instead, Jisung doubled down on his attempt to silently funnel his own energy into Changbin. He was certain the other boys were doing the same. Jisung wasn’t sure if he was even doing anything to aid Changbin. Still, he maintained his rapt concentration.

Then, Atlas was sucked fully into the earth with an aborted yell. The ground closed over him, and the garden was left with no evidence other than the thick furrows in the ground that the Titan had ever been present here.

“You did it!” Jeongin crowed, rising to his feet suddenly.

Changbin remain slumped over on his knees, but he sent a tired smile to the other boys. “ _We_ did it.”

Jisung let himself float in the euphoric vibe infiltrating the garden, before he caught sight of the funnel of sky dropping down in the edge of his vision. _Chan!_

“The sky!” Jisung cried, turning back to where Chan was bent under the weight of the heavens. Chan, too, had started to sport a grey streak in his curly black hair. The other boy’s eyes were closed, and his shoulders were shaking, and the sky was pressing upon him.

“What do we do?” Hyunjin whispered, hurriedly stepping over to Chan.

“We can’t keep passing the sky around between us,” Minho said. The boys had formed a loose semi-circle around Chan, worried eyes watching their unofficial leader struggle to keep the sky from crushing the earth.

“We can’t exactly call Atlas back up to hold it,” Changbin said. He was standing, now, but he was slumped in exhaustion, and his body still held a light tremor.

“We need something else to prop the sky up; something strong,” Seungmin said, staring at the funneled clouds with a furrowed brow.

“Oh!” Felix exclaimed, reaching into his pocket. He drew out the small acorn Persephone had gifted him. “Not to mix mythologies, but what about a tree? Like, a world tree?”

“Yggdrasil,” Seungmin whispered, his eyes settling on the small seed in Felix’s hand.

“Will a tree be able to hold up the sky?” Jeongin said, his voice also a low murmur in the still garden air.

“Only one way to find out,” Felix replied.

Felix knelt onto the dirt directly between Chan’s feet. If Chan was aware of the other boy’s actions, he made no indication of it. Chan continued to tremble under the weight of the sky, eyes firmly shut and teeth bared in a grimace.

Jisung moved closer to Chan. “I’ll pull him out.”

Jeongin stepped up beside Jisung. “I’ll help!”

“Everyone ready?” Felix asked. His eyes were anxious, but hopeful. When the other boys nodded, Felix returned his gaze to the soil. He quickly dug a hole into the soft ground, placing the seed inside of it before covering it over with dirt. “Okay; grow.”

At first, nothing happened. Then, a small green sprout poked its head out of the dirt, quickly growing in height and girth as it continued to travel up towards the sky resting upon Chan’s back. In another couple seconds, the sprout had become a sapling. It grew just in front of Chan, its rapidly thickening branches angling up to catch the heavy clouds above Chan’s head.

“Now!” Jisung shouted, and he and Jeongin tugged hard on Chan’s shoulders, pulling the other boy back as the sapling grew to accommodate the space Chan had filled.

For a second, the young tree quivered under the weight of the sky. Soon, though, its trunk was widening, and its branches were growing to support more and more of the weight of the heavens. Chan had slumped back into Jisung and Jeongin’s arms, but he quickly focused back on what was happening before him. Jisung watched as the tree grew to a truly incredible height, taller than Atlas had been and stronger, easily carrying the sky among its many green-leafed branches.

There, at the garden at the end of the world, the sky came to rest comfortably among the boughs of a new world tree which cast cool shadows over eight young demigods.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> We really are in the Finale times now, y'all. I think there's 2 chapters left? Maybe 3? Which is kind of insane to think about wow! Hope you all have enjoyed so far, and hold on for the climax and ending of this story!
> 
> Today's song rec is ["Who Dis" by Secret Number](https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=mkYwq_CKpyw). If you haven't listened to this song yet, please please check it out! I am falling in love with these girls they're so talented. Another bonus rec is [this incredible Miggy Smallz mashup](https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=Wt48SAR0da4) which features a bunch of girl groups songs and absolutely slaps.
> 
> I hope you all are continuing to stay safe and healthy! Continue to support [BLM](https://blacklivesmatters.carrd.co/) however you are able, continue to wear masks in public spaces, continue to reach out to friends and family, continue to be kind to one another. Thank you all so much for reading, and see you next week! <3 <3 <3


	18. Candy

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hi everyone! This chapter is shorter than usual, but I didn't really want to continue it past its current end point. The ending's a bit of a doozy, but hopefully you enjoy! To all of you who were like "hm, that old lady's kind of fishy, what are those candies," this one's for you!

The garden at the end of the world was silent and still. The newly birthed world tree stood tall and proud. Its branches supported the whole of a sky that still held two clashing suns.

Felix was still on his knees in front of the great tree, staring up at its widespread branches. Slowly, Jisung sank to his knees beside him. Now that the adrenaline was wearing off, every single ache in his body had returned tenfold. His lungs hurt with every breath. His head was pounding. He wasn’t even sure if he could muster the energy to stand again now that he had dropped to his knees. Around him, the other boys were slowly falling to their knees as well. Each of them was graced with a stripe of grey in their otherwise dark hair. They dug their hands into the soft earth to support themselves and turned with one gaze up towards the tree. Then, they stared past it, up towards the two suns.

“What do we do now?” Jeongin asked, his voice barely above a whisper.

“I don’t know,” Chan answered, voice equally soft.

“We’re supposed to stop the Titans, aren’t we?” Hyunjin asked. He, too, kept his voice quiet.

Changbin scoffed. “We could barely handle one Titan. How the hell are we going to handle a whole army of them?”

“I don’t know,” Chan repeated, dragging his gaze down from the dual suns to where his hands were clenching into fists around the earth.

Silence renewed its reign in the garden at the end of the world. Jisung was trying his best to come up with some solution, some way the eight of them could best a whole army of Titans. Could they simply lend their aid to the Olympians? Somehow, Jisung didn’t really think that would be enough. From the way Chan’s prophecy had been worded, it seemed it would come down to the eight of them to fix this apparently insurmountable problem.

Eventually, Seungmin spoke up. “There’s only two lines left: heavenly voices and a loss of gold.”

“A lot needs to happen in those two lines,” Minho said.

“And it has to be us?” Jeongin asked. “By decree of fate, or whatever?”

“It has to be us,” Felix confirmed.

“That’s not really fair, is it?” Jisung spoke up. “If everything’s predetermined, then what’s even the point of trying?”

“That’s not quite how it works,” Felix replied. He twisted to face Jisung. “There are always different paths you can take.”

“Prophecies tend to direct towards the ‘best-case scenario’ paths,” Chan added on.

“Though even the best-case scenarios still suck in some cases,” Changbin mumbled.

Jisung nodded slowly. “So, fate’s more of a suggestion than a requirement?”

Chan nodded. “Yup. Fate’s not really set in stone.”

Seungmin added, “Fate is less of a statue and more of a tapestry. You can tailor it, if you will. Make edits to its weave and warp.”

As soon as the words had left Seungmin’s mouth, Jisung felt his lungs collapse in on themselves. _Tailor…!_ Jeongin’s eyes were wide when Jisung met them, and he knew the other boy was thinking the same thing as himself. Slowly, Jisung drew the baggie of yellow candies from his pocket. They were still pristinely wrapped, the little blue note nestled securely among the individually wrapped sweets. Jisung remembered the cheerful message written on that note, and his lungs collapsed further:

_Best enjoyed in a group! Especially after gardening._

The old woman had known. She’d known they’d end up here, with this world tree standing tall before them. She’d known they were eight. So then, what would the candies do?

“Is Fate a person?” Jeongin hesitantly spoke. Jisung looked up, again meeting his eyes. They were still so wide, and so worried.

“Not quite?” Chan hadn’t yet picked up on the silent conversation happening between Jeongin and Jisung. He would soon, though. Chan was likely just exhausted, and that was clouding his cognitive processes. Jisung was thankful for that. He still needed a little more time to wrap his head around this thing that was too convenient to be a coincidence before any of the others added their confusion to his own.

“In Greek mythology, the Fates were three women – the Moirai – who were often depicted weaving.” Seungmin explained. He, too, had yet to catch on to the unblinking stare Jisung and Jeongin were sharing. He, too, was most likely exhausted.

“Three women?” Jeongin echoed.

“Sisters!” Felix responded.

“Sisters?” Jeongin asked, but he was still staring at Jisung.

“She mentioned having sisters,” Jisung replied, staring at Jeongin.

“What’s going on?” Hyunjin, surprisingly, was the first to question Jisung and Jeongin’s sudden change in attitude.

Jisung stared at Jeongin, and Jeongin stared at Jisung, and then Jisung turned to the others and spoke. “I think Jeongin and I met one of the Fates. I think she gave me these candies for us all to eat.” Jisung hefted the bag up, displaying the bright yellow candies to the group at large. Jeongin was nodding along, also now looking out towards the others. The others were silent, their gazes passing between Jisung and Jeongin and the little bag of candy.

Eventually, Seungmin spoke, staring at Jisung. “The Fates have always been fond of Zeus.”

“What does the candy do?” Felix asked.

“I have no idea,” Jisung responded.

“Probably something big,” Jeongin supplied.

“What’s the blue thing?” Minho asked.

“Oh! A note. Here, wait a sec…” Jisung dug the note out of the bag carefully, before reading it out loud to the others.

“Gardening…” Felix trailed off, staring up at the world tree.

“Maybe it’s some sort of super-great ambrosia?” Hyunjin offered.

Chan was frowning at the little bag. He slowly shook his head. “I don’t think that’s it. If it truly is a gift from the Fates, it’s gonna be way more than just some extra ambrosia.”

“Like, something that’ll give us the ability to beat the Titans?” Changbin asked. All eyes once more turned towards the bag of yellow candies in Jisung’s hand.

Jisung was equally parts terrified and incredulous. These eight candies could grant them the power to best the Titans? And he’d just been carrying them around in his _pocket_?

“Should we, you know, eat them…?” Jeongin asked hesitantly.

“Not until we have a better idea of what they’ll do,” Chan responded, his voice firm.

Jisung set the baggie down in front of him, and the other boys shuffled until they were in their familiar circle formation. The bag sat, innocuous, in the center. There was no wind in the garden; no background sound of leaves rustling or bugs buzzing. The lake was completely still, no water gently lapping at its banks. The only sound was Jisung’s own ragged breaths in his ears coupled with the pounding of his heartbeat.

“Should we go over the prophecy again?” Hyunjin suggested. “You know, like we did before fighting Atlas?”

“I think we’ve got everything figured until the last two lines, right?” Chan said.

Minho nodded. “Mist, check. Clashing suns, check. Falling sky, check. We just need the heavenly voices and loss of gold, like Seungmin said earlier.”

That didn’t sound quite right to Jisung, and it took him another moment to realize why. “Wait, what about the final gate? It wasn’t the Underworld and it wasn’t Olympus, right? So, we still need to pass through it.”

“Oh, right,” Changbin confirmed, his eyebrows sliding together. “So, we still have the gate, the voices, and the gold to figure out.”

“I know they’re all tied together. I _know_ it.” Seungmin murmured intently, staring daggers into the little bag in the middle of their circle.

“Anyone know of any more gates we can pass through?” Felix said, tone light. Jisung was pretty sure the other boy was only half-joking.

“Maybe the final gate’s in Lotte World; everything else was.” Hyunjin, too, seemed only half-joking to Jisung.

“What if the gate isn’t even in Korea?” Jeongin asked.

Chan was still frowning. “The gate has to be something we can access. Otherwise, why even include it in the prophecy?”

All this talk about a gate was still rubbing Jisung the wrong way. It wasn’t the Underworld, it wasn’t Olympus… _Wait._ “Does the gate have to be physical?”

Seungmin’s gaze jumped from the candy bag to meet Jisung’s. “What?”

“The final gate,” Jisung repeated; “does it have to be a physical gate?”

“You mean, what if the ‘final gate’ is a metaphor?” Chan asked.

“That could be it,” Seungmin mused. His attention was back on the bag of candy. “The ‘gate’ could represent some other sort of crossing, or advancement, or transition. Maybe it’s more the concept of a gateway, rather than a physical gate…”

Suddenly, Minho let out an emphatic “Shit!”

“What?” Changbin was quick to turn to him, his hands raised to help despite how they shook with fatigue.

“The final gate,” Minho responded, staring despondently at the others. “I think I know what it is.”

“What!” Hyunjin exclaimed.

“What?” Seungmin demanded.

“It’s something my Dad always says. ‘Godhood is a gateway drug.’” Minho’s face was so, so pale. Jisung felt his own face paling as the other boy spoke.

“We have to become gods?” Felix whispered. “How?”

Instinctively, Jisung found his eyes drawn to the little baggie of yellow candies resting just in front of him.

Chan must have had the same thought, as he, too, was staring at the bag. “I think we were given the means to that end, if we chose it.”

“But that’s what we were discussing earlier!” Hyunjin huffed, flicking a stray rock at his knee. “Is it even a choice, really? If we don’t do this, the gods lose, and the Titans take over. There’s no other option.”

“The gods might not lose!” Jeongin offered, but his voice wasn’t particularly convincing.

“We could rally all the demigods to help?” Felix offered.

“And have how many die?” Minho said. His voice was not harsh, but his words still sunk heavily over the rest.

“I’m with Hyunjin,” Changbin said. “This doesn’t feel like a choice to me. It feels like a command.”

“We don’t even know what the candies will do!” Chan protested, backpedaling from his earlier statement.

“I think we have a pretty good idea,” Seungmin said.

“It is still a choice,” Jisung spoke up. “It’s just not an easy one.”

“Give up our humanity, or let down the rest of humanity,” Seungmin responded.

“I don’t like this choice,” Jeongin said.

“I still say this isn’t really a choice,” Hyunjin said.

Chan smiled at him. “That’s because you’re a good person.”

“I think we should do it,” Felix said. “But not because I want to help the gods.”

Seven pairs of eyes turned towards him. Changbin was the first to speak. “What?”

Felix spread his hands out in front of him. “I love my mom, I do! And Dionysus is pretty chill, and so was Hades I guess, but what about the rest of them? Who else has spoken to their godly parent?” There was silence. Felix continued, “exactly. Minho said so before, I think: the gods have grown lazy, and out of touch with the world.”

“If they beat the Titans, nothing will change,” Seungmin said, turning to Felix with a slow realization dawning in his eyes.

“But the Titans can’t win either!” Changbin protested. “You saw what Atlas was like; the others have been locked up for just as long and are probably just as bitter.”

“I don’t think the Titans should win, either,” Felix responded.

Jisung turned the idea over in his head before speaking. “So, the gods can’t win, and the Titans can’t win. We’re the third option.”

Felix nodded. “Let’s be something better than either of them.”

“So we’re doing this?” Hyunjin confirmed, staring at the candies.

Chan nodded. “This is our choice.” He fished a yellow candy out of the bag, before turning his gaze out towards the other boys. “I don’t want to make the decision for you all, though. I’m choosing to do this. You don’t have to do this with me, if you don’t want to.”

“You already know I’m in,” Felix stated, grabbing a candy of his own.

“It’s a choice, but not really.” Hyunjin still sounded slightly bitter, but he grabbed a candy as well.

“It’s a choice I’ll chose to make,” Seungmin said as he grabbed his own candy.

“Me too!” Jeongin stated, his face set as he grabbed a candy.

“Well, I certainly can’t let you fools do this by yourselves,” Minho said, also grabbing a candy.

“What he said,” Changbin grunted, grabbing a little yellow candy for himself.

Jisung closed his hand around the last candy in the bag, drawing it out as he stared at the others. “I trust you all. I don’t want to leave any of you behind.”

“So we’re doing this?” Chan confirmed, holding both ends of his candy wrapper in hands that trembled slightly.

“We’re doing this,” Minho confirmed, unwrapping his own candy. The others followed, and soon Jisung was holding the yellow candy between his thumb and forefinger, his hand raised and ready to pop the small treat into his mouth.

“I love you guys,” Hyunjin’s voice shook slightly. His own candy was raised to his lips.

“On three,” Chan said. “One… two… three.”

Jisung pressed the little yellow candy into his mouth. Instantly, a burst of something overwhelmed his taste buds. He couldn’t quite place the flavor. It certainly wasn’t lemon, as he had been expecting. It wasn’t anything he had eaten before. Instead, it tasted warm, and bright. For a few brief moments, that was all that happened. The candy sat in his mouth, he slowly sucked on it, and his gaze caught the confused stares of the other seven boys. Then, Jisung’s world imploded.

Jisung’s vision went white and staticky. He was simultaneously dying and being born again. Did he still have a body? Were his knees still pressed into the soil, were the others still around him? He had no eyes to see. He had no tongue to taste. He had no voice to scream.

The world shattered again, and Jisung was floating. He was surrounded by colors he could not name, bouncing off the sides of his head and the insides of his lungs and the corners of his eyes. There were a thousand violins strumming, each at a different tune; or maybe they were pianos; or maybe they were voices. Jisung couldn’t tell. It was overwhelming in every sense of the word, and then the world shrunk down to just him and there was nothing else.

There was nothing else. There was no darkness, because that would have been something. There was no air. There was no temperature, or gravity, or stimuli of any sort. There was just Jisung. But, he wasn’t quite Jisung. Not anymore. He was a bit beyond that, now, and drifting further and further away with every moment that did not pass in this timeless state. _Who is Jisung?_ It was a concept he was losing grip on as his body billowed out into the nothingness. Maybe he would expand forever, and he would become everything and nothing and would never again return to whatever “Jisung” had been. He was forgetting his own name.

Then, at the periphery of his being, he sensed seven other somethings. He paused. What were these? There had only been him; there had only ever been him, nameless and formless and endless. But now there was something: seven somethings. They were unknown to him; strangers. Except, they weren’t. Except, he had woven his life into theirs; his prior life. Back when he was Jisung.

His name returned to him in a rush, and the rest of him came with it. _Jisung._ He was Jisung. He had always been Jisung, and he would continue to be Jisung, even as his veins turned molten and his eyes began to shine. He was Jisung, and he knew these seven others around him. There was Chan, constant and powerful and there, always there. There was Minho, the best kind of volatile and teasing and so incredibly supportive. There was Changbin, somehow both certain and doubtful but welcoming above all. There was Hyunjin, who wore his heart on his sleeve and would offer it to you without any reservations. There was Felix, who was serious and goofy and always striving to help those around him grow. There was Seungmin, who was so smart but never pretentious, overly generous with his knowledge. There was Jeongin, as new to this all as Jisung but determined to do whatever he could to help the others.

As their names came back to him along with his own, Jisung found himself settling once more into his body. Yes, this was still his body; just more. He flexed his fingers and took a breath. His lungs did not hurt. His head did not hurt. He felt sparks drip off the tips of his hands and they did not burn him. He was Jisung, and he was simultaneously more than Jisung.

Then, Jisung opened his eyes and met the golden gazes of the seven others who had kept him tethered to his own heart.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Stray Kids who? I only know Stray Gods 😤  
> I'm anticipating probably 2 more chapters of this fic, maybe an epilogue. We are rapidly careening towards the end (and also nearly at 100,000 words which is wild)!
> 
> Today's song rec is ["KAZINO" by BIBI](https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=ObzvA8tx9aA) which uses a lot of cool layering and also has a dope music video.
> 
> Continue taking care of yourselves, continue to wear a mask outside and socially distance where possible, continue supporting [BLM](https://blacklivesmatters.carrd.co/), continue to reach out to those you love! I hope you all have a great week, and I'll see you next Sunday. Thanks for reading <3


	19. A New Pantheon

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Eyyyyyyoooooo we've passed the 100,000 word mark this fic is officially a Monster (TM). 
> 
> I initially meant for this chapter to be something else, and then it kinda got away from me. Stray Kids have become Stray Gods, and this chapter explores a bit more what that means for them rather than jumping into the fighting like I had originally intended. Hope you enjoy anyways! (Also thank you so much for over 200 kudos that is incredible I love y'all???!!!)

For a few moments, no one spoke. No one moved. The eight boys simply stared at each other, golden gazes jumping between golden gazes. Then, Jeongin spoke.

 _Do my eyes look like that too?_ Jeongin’s voice floated through the space between the eight boys. Except, it wasn’t his _voice_ , per se. Instead, much like what had happened during their Chan-propelled journey through the ocean, Jeongin’s words echoed directly into Jisung’s head.

 _“What?”_ Hyunjin said, and Jisung saw his lips move and he heard the word as it passed through the air between them, but Jisung also heard Hyunjin’s voice directly sounding in his head. The effect was an odd echo-chamber of sorts, with Hyunjin’s word appearing in his head a fraction of a second before the word reached Jisung’s ears.

Hyunjin’s voice – and Jeongin’s too, now that Jisung thought about it – was distorted. It was the same voice Jisung had become so familiar with over the past weeks, but it was also beyond that. There was an undercurrent to it of something raw; something powerful.

That same undercurrent was present in Changbin’s voice as he spoke. _“Why am I hearing you twice?”_ Similar to Hyunjin, Jisung saw Changbin’s lips move and heard him speak both out loud and inside Jisung’s head.

 _I think this is like what happened underwater_ , Jisung offered. He didn’t bother to open his mouth to speak, trusting that his words would be conveyed to the others without him needing to talk. Sure enough, as he projected the thought outward, seven pairs of golden eyes turned towards him.

 _So we’re talking without speaking?_ Chan asked, also throwing his words into the minds of the others without opening his mouth.

 _I think we’re telepathically linked_ , Seungmin said-thought.

 _This is so cool!_ Felix’s voice was bright in Jisung’s mind, though it too held an undercurrent of power just like the voices of the others.

 _This is so weird_ , Minho said.

 _Weird but cool!_ Felix responded.

 _Mostly cool_ , Hyunjin said. _Also, Jeongin, to answer your earlier question, your eyes are glowing and gold and really pretty!_

 _Thank you!_ Jeongin replied. _Yours are glowing and gold and pretty too!_

Jisung passed his thoughts out to the others. _Did you guys go through… whatever that was, too?_

 _You mean my body being split apart?_ Changbin asked, tone dry though a small smile played on his lips.

 _Yeah, that was altogether not cool._ Felix said.

 _Actually, I think you guys helped me come back to myself_ , Chan’s voice was hesitant, laced with a thin thread of fear. _I was drifting out for a moment there._

 _Oh, me too!_ Hyunjin said. His voice was bright, though that same thread of fear lingered at the edges of his golden irises.

Jisung smiled at them all. _You guys anchored me as well._

Seungmin raised an eyebrow at him. _‘Anchored…’ That’s a good way of putting it._

 _So… are we gods now?_ Minho’s question immediately brought Jisung’s attention back to the light thrumming that had been present in his veins since he had come back to himself.

Before anyone else could speak, Changbin was pulling his axe out with a murmured, _I’m gonna try something…_ Jisung barely had time to process his words before Changbin was sliding the blade of the axe across the palm of his hand.

 _Changbin!_ Chan cried, but he stopped himself mid-cry as he watched the wound on Changbin’s hand leak shimmering golden blood.

 _Ichor_ , Seungmin murmured.

As Jisung continued to watch, a few drops of the golden liquid dripped off Changbin’s hand and sunk into the grass beneath them. Another moment passed, and the cut in Changbin’s hand softly knit itself back together. The thin line of scarring was present for only a second or two before it melted back into Changbin’s skin. The palm of his hand was left whole and unblemished. The only proof that there had been a wound were the specks of gold that clung to Changbin’s axe and a few drops which were slowly sliding down a couple blades of grass.

 _I guess that’s one way of answering_ , Minho said, raising an eyebrow at Changbin. Changbin gave him a sheepish grin in return, sliding his axe-turned-keychain back into his pocket.

 _Does that mean we’re immortal?_ Jeongin asked.

 _I think that’s part of the whole ‘god’ thing._ Chan answered. He was still starting at the drops of ichor clinging to the tips of the grass.

Jisung found his gaze also held by the golden drops. His blood was like that too, now. His eyes were golden and his blood was golden and he had lightning in his veins. A sudden thought hit Jisung, and he was jerking more fully upright, drawing the attention of the others towards him.

 _“The prophecy!”_ Jisung exclaimed, forgetting for a moment that he didn’t need to speak out loud anymore. _“The loss of gold!”_

 _‘Heavenly voices save or scold and ensure peace through loss of gold,’_ Chan recited immediately, before pausing and drawing his gaze over the other boys. _If we’re the heavenly voice now like I think we are…_

 _Do we have to bleed out? For the loss of gold?_ Hyunjin’s words were fearful and his golden eyes were wide.

 _But we’re immortal now_ , Felix’s voice shook somewhat, uncertainty present behind his sure façade.

 _I’m not certain that’s what the prophecy is referring to,_ Seungmin said.

Changbin spoke up. _Do we have to lose an eye? Those are golden too._

 _Again_ , Seungmin said, _I’m not certain that’s the actual meaning of the prophecy. It hasn’t really been that literal so far._

 _I think I could rock an eyepatch_ , Minho said, and his words eased the heavy mood that had been settling over the others.

 _Regardless_ , Chan took control of the conversation, _I do believe we’re the ‘heavenly voices’ set to ensure peace. So, we should probably get started on that._

Jisung turned his gaze back up towards the sky, where the two suns were still pressed tightly together. He wasn’t sure, but he though the suns might’ve been a bit dimmer than they had been before. That couldn’t be good.

Changbin, too, had turned his gaze towards where the suns were presumably clashing in the same plane Olympus was in. _How are we supposed to get over there?_

 _Maybe we could go through the portal Persephone opened?_ Hyunjin suggested.

Chan shook his head. _No, that closed behind us._

 _There’s always the portal in Seoul…?_ Felix’s voice was hesitant.

 _I think that would take too long_ , Jisung said. The suns were definitely dimmer than they had been before their fight with Atlas. Jisung didn’t want to find out what would happen if those suns were to disappear.

Jeongin spoke up slowly. _Hermes is the god of travel, right?_

 _Among other things, yes_ , Seungmin responded.

 _So then I’m a god of travel now too, right?_ Jeongin asked.

 _I don’t know what we’re gods of_ , Chan responded, staring down at his hands. Jisung turned his gaze to his own hands, and with the barest half of a thought, he brought a few sparks forward to drip from his fingers.

 _I think we can do whatever we did before… this_ , Jisung said. _Just… more._

 _We’re the gods of whatever we want to be_ , Minho said, and his grin had started to verge on feral.

 _So, I could open locked doors before_ , Jeongin started, before giving the others a wide, brace-filled grin. Jisung was suddenly struck with an incredible sense of gratitude that, despite everything, Jeongin still had his braces. It kept him looking human, despite the glow of his eyes and the power evident in his being.

Jeongin continued, _I think I can_ make _the doors, now._

 _You mean, like a door to Olympus?_ Hyunjin asked. Jeongin nodded, still smiling.

 _Again, I’ll repeat: this is so cool._ Felix, too, was grinning, and flowers were starting to bloom at his feet.

 _Before we head out, is everyone ready?_ Chan asked. _We don’t know what we’ll be stepping into on the other side of that door._

Changbin cracked his neck side to side, rising to his feet as he once more drew his axe from his pocket. Shadows began to swirl around the blade, obscuring whatever golden residue might have remained as the light seemed to be sucked from the air surrounding the weapon. _Ready._

Jisung, too, rose to his feet. His hands were actively sparking now, and he felt like he could take on an army. Him, and these other seven boys. They could do it. They could win.

 _“Ready,”_ Jisung said, and the words echoed out of his mouth and into the ears and minds of the others. They stood, rolling their shoulders and drawing their weapons. Each bore a smile on his face, ranging from a tight grin in Seungmin’s case to a full-blown smirk in Minho’s. The air was tense and thrumming with the promise of something Jisung was suddenly more than ready to give into. He felt powerful in a way that he hadn’t experienced since before the Giant had attacked. Actually, this feeling was completely new; inaccessible to the Jisung of before. Now, he was different. Now, he was powerful. Now, he was a _god_.

 _“Let’s go kick some Titan ass!”_ Minho shouted, and his voice shook the world around him, and for half a second Jisung felt madness grip his mind. He embraced the feeling, his grin growing wider and more savage as he joined the others in yelling out in one voice something nameless and full of promised fury.

Jeongin stretched out his hand, palm open, before quickly closing his hand into a fist and pulling his arm back into himself. As he did so, a shimmering golden gateway appeared in the air in front of the eight boys, pulled into being with a staccato pop.

Chan was quick to position himself in front of the others, and Jisung and Changbin fell into step beside him. The others fanned out into the arrowhead position they had taken before approaching Atlas. When Chan stepped forward, he stepped with the power of all the Earth’s tides, and the ground trembled beneath his feet. Jisung once more felt the sharp thrill of anticipation crawl down his spine. It was the same feeling he’d experienced before facing Atlas. Except, this time, there was no fear. Only adrenaline. Only power.

 _“Let’s go,”_ Chan commanded, and they stepped forward as one through the golden gate Jeongin had called: the newest pantheon come to replace the old.

The Olympus Jisung found himself stepping into was a far cry from the Olympus he had visited just hours previously. (Had it really been only hours? Surely, a lifetime had passed in that interim.) That Olympus had been pristine: white, gleaming, full of promise and decadence. The devastation had begun before the others had left, yes, but Olympus had still seemed salvageable then. Now, the mountain of the gods was in ruin.

The white marble of the buildings had crumbled into ash. Lone pillars listed sideways, the only sentinels still standing of what had once been a pavilion of stonework. The stone paths were cracked and uneven underfoot. Orange-yellow flames brightening into blue at their centers were licking down every available surface, growing bigger and brighter despite their lack of fuel. All the grass had long since burned away.

Jisung felt a pulse of remorse shoot through him for the loss of Persephone’s garden, but soon the feeling was replaced with that same frantic anticipation sizzling in his mind and down each and every one of his nerves.

Jisung moved to step forward and was instantly yanked back by a hand on his shoulder. With a scowl, he turned to meet the steely gaze of Seungmin for a half second before his attention was ripped back in front of him as a pillar twice as thick as he crashed into the earth not a foot from where he stood.

 _Let’s not test our immortality quite yet_ , Seungmin said, giving him a half-grin.

 _How’d you know?_ Hyunjin questioned, eyes wide.

 _I see things now, and then they happen_ , Seungmin replied with a shrug. _Only involving myself and the seven of you, though._

 _Like, precognition?_ Changbin’s brows were drawn together.

 _Yes, but only a few seconds in advance._ Seungmin’s voice was stable, but the grin was growing on his face. Jisung, despite his apparent close call earlier, felt his own grin growing to match the other boy’s.

 _Excellent_ , Minho all but purred. _Then you’ll be able to see us win twice._ Minho’s grin was wide and sharp and hungry.

 _Let’s find the Titans,_ Chan commanded, and they fell into step around him as Chan started leading them further into Olympus, towards where the destruction was more prominent.

They had only been walking for a minute or so when Jisung saw a flash of something in the corner of his eye.

 _Wait,_ he said, and the others listened.

 _Danger?_ Jeongin asked, but he did not sound afraid. Instead, his eyes were gleaming and his hands were twirling his daggers faster than Jisung’s newly golden gaze could keep up with.

 _Not quite,_ Seungmin said, and he was grinning, and so Jisung proceeded towards the flash he had seen.

As he drew closer, he realized the flash had arisen from firelight glinting off something metallic. He drew closer still, and he realized there was some bronzed object buried among the rubble in a building that might have been a smithy, judging by the blackened anvil still standing among the ruins. Jisung reached down, and as soon as his hand made contact with the bronze object, a jagged burst of lightning shot up and out of his body. He heard a few scattered gasps from the others as he pulled the object free and turned around to show them his find: a wicked-looking lightning bolt made of what Jisung could only assume was celestial bronze.

The bolt trembled in his hand, the perfect conduit of the electricity still humming in his veins. Somehow, Jisung was certain that if he threw this bolt, it would return to him in an instant.

 _This is my weapon,_ he told the others, and they understood him perfectly. Nothing had felt right previously because nothing was this; this bolt, so in tune with his being; made for him, somehow, before it was known that he would come.

 _Dibs on your old sword!_ Minho cried, and Jisung threw him the pen. Minho caught it with ease, uncapping it quickly and arcing the newly freed blade through the air, a sword clasped in each hand.

 _Ambidextrous bastard,_ Chan said, smile present on his face.

 _Language!_ Minho shot back, his smile as jagged and sharp as the edges of his two swords. Chan’s smile only grew at Minho’s light admonishment.

 _So fucking cool._ Felix breathed out, and vines crept up and around his legs.

 _We’re going to wreck the Titans_ , Hyunjin stated, and his voice was laced with silver, with honey, with _gold_.

 _They won’t stand a chance_ , Changbin confirmed, turning back towards the path they had been walking previously. Once more, Chan stepped forward. Once more, the ground trembled under his feet. Once more, Jisung and the other six boys fell into step around him, moving as one through the wreckage of Olympus.

The closer they got to the heart of Olympus, the fuller the feeling of anticipation grew in Jisung’s humming bones. He was trailing sparks as he stepped, but the others didn’t seem to mind. Their own godhoods were rising to the forefront of their being: Chan continued to cause tremors with every step he took, and storm clouds were beginning to form above his head – the dangerous kind, the kind that took sturdy ships and dashed them to the graveyard at the bottom of the sea. Every movement Minho made was laced with a sort of frenzy, as if he could drop out of his body at any second, calling whoever else he pleased to join him in that maddened state. The shadows had spread from the head of Changbin’s axe to dance up his arm and across his torso, coating him in something dark and dense and impenetrable. Hyunjin’s entire being was glowing a light golden hue, and Jisung was certain no creature could raise a weapon against him even if they had previously wished so with all their heart. New growth rose to meet Felix’s every foot fall, and sturdy tendrils had wrapped themselves around his arms, loops of thorny vine hanging at his sides and ready to strike any who approached with malintent. Seungmin’s eyes were bright and focused, tracking their steps five paces ahead of where they were currently, ready to react before an action had even occurred. Jeongin continued to twirl his daggers at inhumane speeds, and a sharp-toothed wind was whipping up around him from his frenzied movements, ruffling his hair and giving him an appearance almost devilish in demeanor.

Jisung focused back on what lay in front of him and realized with a start that they had arrived at the Temple of the Gods. At least, he assumed this had been the Temple of the Gods, where they had stood, small, before the twelve Olympians hours earlier. The high ceiling of the Temple had been torn to the ground. Braziers lay, smoldering slightly, across a broken marble floor. The great thrones the gods had once occupied were each cracked and split and crumbling; some looked deliberately smashed. The chair Zeus had occupied was split straight down the middle, and Jisung knew that was meant to send a message; a warning. In response, Jisung felt the anticipation inside him rise higher, the sparks trailing at an increased frequency from his fingertips as small shocks danced over his person.

 _Where are they?_ Changbin growled, and he sounded nothing close to human. Jisung’s smile grew.

 _That way_ , Hyunjin stated, and he was smiling, too. He pointed out past the ruins of the temple, towards a section of Olympus the eight of them had yet to see. _I can sense their heartbeats._

 _Let’s go_ , Chan commanded once more, and they followed.

It took only a moment or two more for Jisung to hear the sounds of battle. There was metal clashing and all sorts of voices screaming out in fear and anger and pain and triumph. The air was charged, and the small hairs on Jisung’s arms stood up in response. The fires burned fiercer here, and great clouds swirled overhead, dark and crackling and heavy. Another moment, and the battle of the Titans and Olympians came into view.

Jisung knew there were more than the twelve established Olympians: Persephone, for instance. But he had not realized just how many gods there were, and in turn just how many Titans had risen from Tartarus to meet them. There were dozens upon dozens of immortals gathered here, painting the ground golden as they hacked and slashed at one another.

A half-formed through passed through his mind, filled with concern for Camp Half-Blood and Brian and the other demigods; concern for all the mortals down in the realm below them. Had the Titans attacked the mortal world? Were all those people unaware and unarmed caught up in this? Then the sounds and sights of battle overtook those thoughts, and the concern vanished as his body tensed in anticipation of the fight to come.

As soon as all eight of them had stepped forward onto the battle ground, a kind of temporary ceasefire fell over the Titans and the Olympians as they turned to gaze upon the newcomers.

“Who are these children? How have they come here?” A Titan spoke, and his voice carried centuries of anger within it. He was large and scarred and should have been terrifying. Jisung was not afraid.

“They are demigods,” A god answered, and Jisung turned his head to meet the gaze of the god who was his parent but not his father. Zeus looked as close as a god could to confusion, and a lightning bolt similar to the one Jisung held was clenched and shivering in the god’s grasp.

 _“We’re something more,”_ Chan said, and although he had not shouted, his voice echoed out across the entirety of the battlefield, _“and we have come to end this war.”_

The great Titan – the one who had been fighting Zeus – scoffed. “I’d like to see you try. Eons ago, I ate the gods who became your parents. Today, I will swallow you fledglings alongside them.”

Chan merely sighed in response before drawing his trident. Its three-pronged tip shivered in the light of the fires scattered about them. Chan’s eyes were just as pointed as his weapon. _Let’s go._

The eight of them stepped forward as one, and the Titans moved to meet them.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Get ready for things to get ~heated~ next chapter!! Originally I thought this story would end at 20 chapters, but now it's looking like it'll end at 21 or 22. We'll see!
> 
> For this week's song, I am begging you all to please check out ["pporappippam" by Sunmi](https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=Is7glC9Jp7Q), this song is literally a masterpiece and gives me such good nostalgic summery vibes. 10/10 have had on repeat since it came out.
> 
> Continue taking care of yourselves and practicing good social distancing, wear a mask when in public spaces, support [BLM](https://blacklivesmatters.carrd.co/), and thank you all so much for continuing to read! See you all next week you lovely humans! <3 <3 <3


	20. The Battle

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Similar to the previous chapter, this one is a little more... dreamy? in its prose. It's also a collection of vignettes from each of the boys's perspectives (starting off with a bonus Younghyun aka Brian!), so enjoy a glimpse into each of their minds now that they've progressed beyond being demigods!

Younghyun was old. He had spent centuries wandering the planet, watching humans flourish and fall and flourish again while the gods stayed secluded in their heavenly palaces. Younghyun was old, and he had seen many things. He had never seen something like what happened the day the Titans walked free.

He spent the morning of that day in Camp Half-Blood's library. He had told Chan he would search for information as to what was going on, and he was going to try his hardest to deliver on that promise. Thus far, his efforts had been fruitless. Younghyun was old, though, and patient, and he had spent far longer than a single morning in pursuit of some piece of antiquity. He would continue to search, and he would find some piece of information to relay to Chan and the rest of the kids. He could do this much, at least.

Or, that had been Younghyun’s plan. The reality of the situation was that he had gotten through around three dozen manuscripts before the ground began to tremble. Younghyun had left the library in the Big House without a second thought as to the books he scattered in his wake. His sole focus was getting down to the main grounds and the cabins where the children were and ensuring that there were no further skeletal soldiers scrambling up from a newly-broken ground.

When he reached them and the ground remained unbroken, Younghyun did not allow himself to relax. With the help of Sungjin, Jae, Wonpil, and Dowoon, he gathered the demigods in the center of camp, counting and recounting to make sure no one was missed. They were all there, and they were all ready with weapons drawn. Still, the camp remained quiet, though tremors continued to ripple through the ground. Younghyun was getting ready to hesitantly send the children back to their cabins and their activities when exclamations drew his attention to the sky.

There were two suns, and they were heading towards each other, and Younghyun knew what that meant. He had not been alive at the time of that first war, but his kin had been, and he had heard the stories. He knew what destruction was to come, how the world would fall apart. Still, his focus was this camp, and the nervous demigods that stood staring up at the sky.

He prepared them as best he could, splitting them up into factions between himself and the rest of his staff, and together they fortified the camp. Then, they waited for the creatures to break in. They did not wait long. The Giants were the first to smash through the barriers at the front of the camp, followed shortly by all sorts of lesser monsters, and they fought. They fought well, and they kept their camp, their home.

It had been hours later, perhaps; Younghyun was not keeping careful track of the time. He could not spare energy on that. The monsters had continued to come, and they had continued to fight, and he could tell the children were tiring. But what choice did they have? They had to keep fighting, or they would die. It was something Younghyun had told them, before the gates were broken and the monsters poured in.

Then, in a strange sense of déjà vu, another round of exclamations drew Younghyun’s gaze once more into the sky. The dual suns were still pressing up against each other – Apollo and Helios locked in battle – but now there was something new in the sky: eight somethings. Eight bright spots, surrounding the suns and glowing golden.

Younghyun had seen nothing like this in his long life, but he knew what it meant, somehow, and he found himself with tears in his eyes for the eight once-upon children he had sent forward into that fate even as he thrust his spear into the body of something with far too many mouths.

…

Once upon a time, Jisung had been afraid of many things: heights, crowds, sudden loud noises. Living without his mother. Giants. Losing someone else he loved. Those fears had been grounded. They were real and they were terrifying and, once upon a time, they had been capable of rendering him frozen in place. He had been bound by those fears; collared and leashed and brought to his knees time and time and time again. Now, he was the one holding the reins. Now, fear was an abstract concept. Fear existed, sure, but not for him. Not anymore.

Now, he moved forward with lightning in his veins and storm clouds swirling around his golden irises. He flicked his hand, and electricity jerked from his fingers into the chest of a Titan. He glared, and thunder waves echoed out from his core, sweeping a cluster of gods and Titans alike off their feet. What did he have to be afraid of now? There was nothing that could stand before him.

He welcomed the crowd of towering bodies coming forward to meet him. He stepped among them with certainty, trailing his hands over great calves and tensed abdomens and slipping lightning into their veins, too. But they were not like him. They could not handle that steady stream of electrons, and their skin sizzled, and their veins burned, and he smiled.

He stepped forward again, and suddenly he was no longer level with calves and abdomens but with shoulders and heads. He looked into eyes, and he saw fear. That expression was familiar. There had been a time, eons ago, when he had seen those same eyes staring back at him from the dark screen of a phone in the back of a train heading north, or from the mirror in the bathroom of a summer camp, or reflected in the eyes of a boy he trusted with his life.

Then he blinked, and the eyes and all they held were no longer familiar. They were simply wide, and afraid, and weak. They were weak. And he was so, so strong.

He didn’t even try to move as the fearful eyes slammed a sword into his side. Golden blood spilled from the wound, but the lightning stayed in his veins. It crackled as he lifted his hand and flexed his fingers, spilling out of his body and into those fearful eyes with ease. The eyes slammed closed, and his side stitched itself together, and he moved on.

One step, and the smell of sizzling flesh rose to meet his wrinkled nose. Two steps, and the edge of an axe caught him behind the knee before a wave of force slammed into the offender. Three steps, and his knee had healed and the one who had attacked him was still.

He progressed further, and sometimes he would run into one of the others and they would stand for a moment, back to back, and nothing could approach them. The ground was golden and his eyes were golden and his veins were sparking, still.

He was more than a god, he thought. He was beyond that; they all were. They just Were. He just Was, and he was of lightning, and he was of thunder, and he was of storms. He, of Storms. With his eyes full of summer’s sodden fury, he stepped forward once more, arm held high as he once more called jagged, white-hot bolts down on all who dared step into his path.

…

As soon as Jeongin stepped forward with the others to meet the Titans in their charge, he stopped moving through time at a linear, consistent pace. Time warped and shifted around him and he progressed in chronologic bursts: the world spun around him for a second and he was sliding a dagger through the side of a Titan, pausing for a moment to watch rivulets of gold drip from the edge of his knife. Then he was gone, the world spinning again until he once more stopped to slice a thick golden stripe across a tree-trunk thigh.

He moved forward like this, leapfrogging from enemy to enemy as the world swirled around him in an indistinguishable blur of color and noise. He thought one of the others might have grabbed him at some point – he assumed it was one of the others; the hand seemed familiar and warm as it guided him away from a Titan's strike – but he couldn't be certain. Everything was too fast, and then everything was too slow, and then everything was too fast once more. He loved it. It made sense to him. How had he ever existed in this world otherwise?

He had been so slow, once. So slow, and so young, and so ready to move out and move on and see the world around him. He wasn’t slow anymore, and the world was suddenly so small. Was there nothing more than this collection of sound and light? There must be, surely. He needed there to be; all that existed now could hold his attention for a moment, maybe, before he was moving on.

The others were interesting, at least. They were new, and they were like him – fast and exciting and more than this world had ever known. He spent a while watching them: their shadows and their flashing weapons, the salt spray and the sparks and the way they would fall together to fell an enemy before separating into their own spheres of destruction. It was fascinating.

He would fall into step beside another, occasionally, and his daggers would flash at a hundredth of their typical speeds so the others could follow. The others were fast, but he was still faster. He was always faster. Still, their weapons also darted out and drew those same rivers of gold, and they smiled at him, and he smiled back, and he was a part of this. He was not a part of the world, but he was a part of this.

He was not a part of the world. He could not be seen. He could be heard, though, if he wanted. He could be felt, when he chose to be, especially as the curved edge of his dagger swirled around another flexed bicep or behind a bent knee or between two ribs. He was gone before they were aware that he had been present to begin with, leaving nothing but the faintest echo of his laughter on the breeze formed by his passing. He was not of this world, but of its winds. He, of Winds. Another small collection of moments passed in stuttering gasps around him, and he slid through time without a backwards glance.

…

Even before Seungmin had stepped forward, he saw eight different paths arc out in front of himself and the seven others around him. Then, he actually moved, and those paths shifted. He saw himself running, and then he was running; he saw himself fighting, and then he was launching his spear into the side of the nearest Titan. He saw Jisung call down lightning seconds before the bolt found its mark. He saw Minho dragging gods and Titans alike into a frenzied state before feeling the effects of that madness wash over his own body. He saw Jeongin disappear, weaving – invisible – between friend and foe alike, and then the boy beside him vanished. He saw Felix, ensnaring Titans with barb-ended vines that moved independently of his body as he fired arrow after arrow into the fray. He saw Hyunjin, forcing Titans to their knees with little more than a word as his words dripped golden into their open ears. He saw Changbin, wielding axe and shadow alike as he brought forth steady streams of gold from any who dared to stand before him. He saw Chan, rocking the ground with every step as he pierced with his trident in one hand and smashed with a hammer of water in the other. He saw it, and it came to pass.

There were some variations, of course. Sometimes the target was different than the one he had seen. Sometimes two weapons were used to strike instead of the one he anticipated. The others would move a half second quicker than expected, or else lag a half second behind. Still, he saw their paths, and he saw his own, and he knew he could keep them safe.

It might have been confusing, for someone who was not wired for war and not used to strategy and not something beyond a god. To him, keeping hold of the entwining threads of his and the other seven’s fates was as easy as sleeping, as eating, as thrusting his spear into yet another mountain of shifting flesh.

When one of the others chanced too close to the arc of a great warhammer and he saw their head burst in a spray of golden droplets, he was there two seconds prior to grab them and pull them away from the path of the blow. When an axe would have cut through not only the arm of its intended target but also through the hand of one of those he was tracking, he redirected the swing with a steady grasp. When one was too focused on drawing the ire of those they were fighting towards themselves as another concentrated on causing infighting among their enemy, he stopped the sudden arrow from piercing through their shoulder.

The images that came to him, gruesome as they were, did not deter him from causing violence of his own. In-between ensuring the others did not fall to a foe they had not sensed, he carved his own legacy into the flesh of those around him with swift jabs. He avoided all attacks with ease, and the adrenaline sang in his veins. He saw it all coming, and he adjusted his steps accordingly, and he twisted what had once been fated to pass. He, of True Sight. Another path flashed before his eyes, and he stepped forward to meet it.

…

Changbin might’ve been rough around the edges, before. He looked a certain way and so he had presented himself a certain way because of who he was and who he was of and all the connotations associated with that heritage. He hadn’t wanted to, not really. He was one thing and his appearance was another and his heritage was a third and all three of them had been at war within his body. It had been painful, sometimes. It was painful no longer. He was above that, now. His edges had been smoothed into shadows, and he easily slid past anything that might’ve caught on his form back when he was rough and jagged and solid.

He coated his axe in shadow, too, and its blade was silken and sharp and existed only when he wanted it to. He swung it wildly, and fountains of gold sprung from the limbs he sheared from their bodies. A hand would appear occasionally to direct his swing, but it was a familiar hand, attached to a familiar presence, and so he did not slip away from it. Other hands – unfamiliar hands – reached out to him, too, but he slid through them, or else he sliced through them, and either way they did not touch him.

He could taste the shadows lingering in the very back of his mouth: tart and sour, with a curious undertone of heavy sweetness. Was he supposed to taste shadows? The answer to that didn’t really matter, because he did, and he liked the taste, and the shadows inside of him swirled as the shadows coating him shifted and he stepped through dimensions with ease.

In less time than it took him to blink his golden eyes, he had covered the whole of the battlefield, emerging at the other end where there was less destruction, less gold on the ground. His axe swung wide, and that changed.

For a few moments, it was only him on the other end of the field; him and his axe and his shadows. Then another appeared, stepping out of the breeze as if they, too, had been travelling through shadows, but he knew better. Shadows were his, and the other was of something else. Still, he recognized the other and the other recognized him and their daggers flashed as his axe swung and together they called forth endless streams of ichor. Something was singing in his being, be it the shadows or the adrenaline or something held deeper, down low where his core was pulsing in time to the movements of the other.

It was years later, or else it was seconds, when the other’s blades slowed and his axe dematerialized into wisps of shade. Those around them were still, or fleeing, and he longed to chase after those who thought they could get away. He met the other’s eyes, and the other smiled, and his teeth were sharp and held straight by something silver and bright. He smiled back, and the other disappeared with a lingering laugh and a breeze that stirred the shadows in his hair.

He, too, disappeared, stepping back into shadows. They welcomed him easily. He was as much of them as they were now of him. He, of Shadows. A sword sliced through his leg and came out the other end, clean. He materialized his arm and his axe and he swung, and the sword and its arm clattered to the ground. He grinned and stepped through them both, further into the battleground.

…

Hyunjin had grown up polite. It was more of a necessity than a courtesy in his case, but regardless, deference had been seared into his bones since the first moment he could comprehend what it meant to be quiet, to be demure, to be everything his father had wished of him. He was different now – he was _more_ – but his core remained, and his core remained polite.

He spoke, and it was a question rather than a command, and the Titans around him bowed regardless. He implored rather than ordered, and they obeyed. He asked, and they had no choice but to say yes. Still, he always asked.

He knew it was an illusion, of course. He was so very familiar with the illusion of choice, with the empty promise that he could have had a say in his life, both the before and the after. Now, he was existing in the _after_ after, and he didn’t have to choose. He decided, and it was. He offered, and the others accepted. But the act of offering made him feel good, made him feel benevolent, and so he kept offering, and they kept accepting, and they tore themselves to shreds at the barest request from him.

It was intoxicating. He had spent years fearing his voice, and he looked back on that fear with scorn. His voice was a gift! It was a blessing, a tool, a weapon. His tongue was silver and his words were golden and they tasted of honey and cream and a mountain of eggs he had shared at some long-ago breakfast table.

He blinked his golden eyes, and the taste faded back into honey and cream and gold, and the words fell out of his mouth and snaked their way inside of the minds of those around him, and they were followed. He was heard, and he made the choices, and the world played out according to his plan.

The others would make themselves known to him, sometimes, and his words were golden for them, too, but they were golden themselves, and so his words slid into their being and they did not have to follow them. He did not want them to follow his words; he wanted them to stay golden, as he was, and free. He wanted them to decide, and have it be so, and they did. They decided to reach out with lightning and fury, and the world crackled around them. They decided to swing sharp-edged blades, and the pieces fell away from the whole. They stood near him and pushed small tidal waves into those who were creeping too close, and he was kept safe in his bubble of golden speech. 

He might not have been speaking anymore. He couldn’t tell. He just knew that he pushed his words out into the air around him, and they hung heavy and sweet and irresistible. Those who dared to stand before him had no choice but to take a bite, and they fell under his spell. He laughed, and they turned their blades against each other. He sighed, and they fell into something deeper than slumber. He took a breath, and they sliced their swords through their own ankles.

He always asked, though. He questioned, he implored, he persuaded. He, of Persuasion. His words fell on ears that had no other option than to be open, and a golden haze filtered into the eyes of those around him. He asked, and they always said yes.

…

Minho despised the term insane. They had cast that label on his mother years ago, before he had been born, and though she had worked tirelessly to shed that moniker, it had stuck to her no matter what she did. She never seemed to mind it, though, or at least she hid her sorrow well if she did, and so he had hated the term enough for the both of them. Insanity itself, as a concept, he did not have such qualms with. It was liberating, wasn’t it? To let your body be your body and your mind be your mind and let go. Just let go.

The thing about going insane is that he knew with perfect clarity what was happening to him. He felt the carefully wound tendrils of his mind unraveling and reorganizing and spilling out into his body. He saw the shapes and creatures creep in at the edges of his vision, terrifying and comforting and altogether alien. They waved to him, and he waved back. He could have stopped it, if he had wanted to. He hadn’t wanted to.

As soon as he stepped forward, he coated himself in this frenzied state, calling Dori with a careless murmur so that she could rake her claws across the calves and the thighs and the stomachs of those who resisted his invitations to unravel. Her eyes were wild when they met his and he was sure his gaze was mirrored in her own. He grinned, and she howled, and threw herself against the nearest creature. He wasn’t worried about her. When he had changed, so, too, had she. Her eyes, after all, had been golden when they had stared into his own.

He turned his scattered focus back to those around him. Despite his carefully fractured mind, he could still tell that some of the beings nearby were familiar. They were like him, and his frantic state slipped over and around them with ease. Yet the others gave in, just a little, and their smiles spread up their faces as the destruction around them intensified. He smiled at them in return, his core vibrating in pleasure with the knowledge that they accepted him like this, that they accepted his being and his mind and his spiraling downwards and upwards and out.

Those who were not the others – those who were not like him – were not as accepting, but that was okay. He forced their minds open, regardless, and their howls rose in a terrible chorus up above the battlefield. Their movements turned jerking and haltering and uncoordinated, and their weapons were useless, or else uncontrolled as they lashed out at anything and everything around them.

He was caught in some of those swings, and he laughed as the gold dripped out of the gashes in his body. It was beautiful; he was beautiful. It was temporary, though, and his wounds would stitch themselves closed, and he remained beautiful. He wanted them to be beautiful, too, and so he slashed with dual blades and he let the gold drip out of their bodies, too. Wasn’t it generous? He would free their minds and he would make their bodies beautiful and he was generous.

He was generous, and he was mad. Or, not mad, in the entirety of the term. Some faraway voice echoed that madness was his father’s domain, and he would not claim it as his own. He was something different. His was a subtler genre: a careful unraveling of the mind; a fervency; a dissonance. He, of Dissonance. His smile curled further up the swell of his cheeks, and half-choked laughter spilled from the mouths of those writhing around him.

…

Felix had been building towards something from the moment he had opened his newly golden eyes. He hadn’t known what it was until this moment, when he stepped forward with the others to meet the Titans and something inside him bloomed bright and vibrant and hot. The field before them sprouted into a million white buds which soon opened into a million white flowers which were soon painted with a million golden droplets. It was beautiful. It was growing.

He was near-bursting at the seams with the desire to foster growth; to raise oaks in the span of seconds and turn the fields around them red with poppies. Birth was a frantic thing, and he was struck with a sense of urgency to bring forward as much new growth as he could. He was here to turn the world lush and green and verdant. Flowers bloomed in the lungs of those around him, and they choked on a rainbow of petals as he passed.

Vines wrapped themselves around his legs and his arms and his torso, but that wasn’t enough, and they reached out to wrap themselves around those around him, too. They were suffocating, but the old must be cleared to make way for the new. Such was the order of things.

He notched his bow and fired an arrow into the eye of one that his vines had suppressed. His arrow burst into bloom in midair, and flowers sprouted in the hollow space where the eye had once rested. He turned, and his vines ensnared another target, and his arrow found another mark. He did not run out of arrows, though he was soon firing stems tipped with sharp barbs rather than wooden sticks with metal heads. He preferred these latter arrows, anyways; they twisted in response to his wishes, changing direction midway through their flight to find a better angle in which to sink their roots.

Everywhere he stepped, there was growth. Flowers and brambles and saplings and lichen and ferns and grasses and bushes and _green_. Everything, green. Everything, growing.

His vines threaded their tendrils around the others, too, weaving flower crowns and scarves and belts and marking them as one like him, of him. They were his, and he was theirs, and the flowers bloomed bright on their crowns. They laughed at the sensation, the petals brushing gently against their throats and cheeks and hair, and he laughed in return as the vines looping his own form sprouted into a hundred tiny blossoms.

He felt raw in the best way possible. He had been stripped to his very core, and it was a seed sprouting into something grand and growing and green. The feeling was incredible. He was young, he was powerful, he was full of potential. The world around him must realize this. It must grow, as he was growing.

The stench of war – of injury, of death, of golden ichor spilling into the field – was overwhelming. He would overwrite that smell with his own: a floral fragrance, the deep scent of rich soil, the cleanness of leaves unfurling for the first time. The bodies on the ground bloomed, and the flowers in the field turned gold as they gathered their pigment from the endlessly spilled ichor.

This is the way the world should be: green and fresh. New, like him. Growing, like him. He, of New Growth. The flowers bloomed bright in his hair, and they bloomed bright in the empty eyes of those strewn before him, and as he stepped forward the world burst into a million golden petals.

…

Like most things, it ended with Chan. Except, he was only Chan at the beginning of this ending. He was Chan when he stepped forward among the others, and he was Chan as he called the water down from the air to swirl in a bludgeoning hammer around his hand, and he was Chan as he thrust his trident into the body of the nearest Titan.

After that, his name started to slip away. He became the things he was doing: he was fighting, he was moving, he was protecting the others. _The others…_

They had names once, too. He was sure of it, but those names eluded him now, and those names didn’t really matter, did they? The others were there, with him, and they were fighting, and they were moving, and he was protecting them. They were like him; they were of him, and he of them. They were.

He stepped forward, and the ground shook. He had been of water once, he was sure, but now there was an element of the earth woven into his core. _Earthshaker_ , that had been a name for his father, hadn’t it? Maybe his father was here, one of the many faces surrounding him, but he couldn’t tell if that was the case. Those around him were faceless, anyways, and nameless, and unimportant. If they stepped into his path, he would force them to the side with his trident or his water-covered fist or both. They would not step into his path again, after that.

There were seven other faces which he could see with clarity. They were familiar in the way his own body was familiar; that is, they were different, now, but he recognized them regardless. He knew them at some deeper level than how he knew himself, and though they were nameless, he knew he would not easily forget their presence.

He was filled with fury when a creature would dare to step before any of those seven others, weapon raised. And he knew the others were more than capable of keeping themselves upright, but sometimes they would be hit, and they would bleed, and he would see nothing but gold for a few moments as the ground threw whichever creature had dared to attack the others from their feet as their lungs filled with fluid.

The others would look at him, then, and they would be laughing, at him and with him, and their wounds would close, and he would feel better and return to sweeping away those in his own path once more.

He progressed like this for an eternity that passed in the blink of his golden eyes. He would find the others where he could, and where he could not, he would sweep the battlefield with waves and with earthquakes until one of their faces popped back into his vision. Eventually, he stepped forward, and the space around him cleared without him having to lift a finger. Eventually, he stepped forward, and found he was the only one moving.

He could see the seven others clearly, now, and their faces stilled the surge inside his being. They moved to stand beside him, and they were the only ones moving, and then they reached him, and the battlefield was still once more.

There was something at his feet, he realized a moment later. A body, he thought, and it was breathing, but it was smeared in golden streaks and it was still and unarmed and bent over into a position of reverence. It was bowing, and the bodies around it were positioned in bows of their own, and he realized with a start that this was the end, wasn’t it?

He had directed the flow of the battle, and he had brought it to a close. He, of Tides. He, and the seven others that stood with him, the only ones upright on this battlefield. He lowered his trident, and they lowered their weapons, and he was left with an unfamiliar sense of uncertainty as a quick thought of _what next?_ flitted through his mind. Then the world stilled, and went white, and he knew.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Next chapter is potentially the last one, or the second to last. Thank you all so much for embarking on this journey with me! I can't believe we're almost to the end, and I'm so thankful to all of you who have commented or given kudos or read! I hope you enjoy the remaining bits of this fic.
> 
> No song rec today, but I do want to say that I had "Easy" (by Stray Kids) on repeat while writing basically all of this chapter, and I think it really embodies the whole vibe going on during the battle!
> 
> Hope you all continue to stay safe and healthy and well! Continue to support [BLM](https://blacklivesmatters.carrd.co/). Continue to care for your own physical and mental health. Continue to reach out to friends and family. Thank you all for reading, and I'll see you next week for the ultimate or penultimate chapter of this story! <3 <3 <3


	21. Anchored

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This is it, everyone. The last official chapter of this fic. Thank you to everyone who's been along for the ride, and to everyone who is just finding this fic now. It's been a truly incredible journey, and I'm so thankful to all of you who've read! Mayhaps I made myself a bit teary-eyed with this one, but it's all good.
> 
> (If y'all want some mood music to go along with this chapter, I had ["Mandus" by Jessica Curry](https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=_TSKgwvHgho) on repeat while I wrote.)

One second, he, of Storms, was standing on a silent battlefield, gold drying on his skin as the others like him breathed softly around him. In the next second, the world around him was wiped away into whiteness and all that remained was himself and the seven others. The lightning in his veins was quieter, now, and as its hum dulled down to background static, he took stock of himself.

His body was whole, of course, despite the multitude of swords and axes and spears that had torn away at his flesh. Every injury was healed, and there was no scar left in its place to suggest he had even been hit.

His mind was a different story. The lightning was still within him, arcing its way through his brain and muddling his thoughts as he tried to tell himself the battle was over. The battle was over, wasn’t it? His gaze rose to the seven others like him and of him and with him, and their golden eyes bore the same confusion that had been present in his own.

Hadn’t they had names, before? Something he had called them; familiar syllables that his tongue had formed time and time and time again. He couldn’t remember. He couldn’t remember his own name. He was simply of Storms, and there was nothing else beyond that, but there had been, hadn’t there? He had been… he had been…

It was on the tip of his tongue, and he was certain his displeasure was evident in his face, but the others were frowning, too, their own golden eyes growing dark and narrowed as they struggled to remember who they had been.

One of them spoke, the one who had shook the ground and swept waves over their enemies, and his voice echoed in the mind of he, of Storms, and it was familiar. _I know you all._ It was not a question.

The other continued. _I know you all. Why can’t I remember your names? Why can’t I remember my own?_ There was frustration present in his voice, and he, of Storms, felt that same frustration bleed into his own being.

 _I know you all as well,_ another spoke, the one who had loosened their minds and invited them into his frenzy. He was calmer, now, though a flicker of something still danced at the back of his gaze.

 _I don’t like not knowing._ Yet another spoke up, and he, of Storms, vaguely remembered how this other had stopped a warhammer from smashing into his head seconds before the weapon would have found its mark. _You all were supposed to be something to me… for me… of me? I’m not sure._

 _We had drifted, before,_ another spoke up, and his voice had been golden and honey and dripping, earlier. It was still golden now, but muted; dulled, instead of brightly polished like it was before. _I remember you all bringing me back._

He, of Storms, had some long-ago word drift through his mind, and before he knew what he was doing, he was speaking to the others of him and like him and with him, who had pulled him back in some former era: _Anchored._

The one who had stopped the warhammer turned to him with a start, golden eyes wide. _Anchored…_ And then his eyes bunched into crescents as he smiled, widely and without a hint of the fervor that had laced his smile before. _You anchored me, Jisung._

He, of Storms, staggered back as the name slammed into him. He was of Storms and he was Jisung and of course he was Jisung how could he have forgotten that but he could not keep both of Storms and Jisung in his being at the same time but he had to. He had to. He was Jisung, and he was of Storms, and the others were slowly filtering back into his awareness as the same recognition began to dawn on their own faces.

Jisung, of Storms, glanced up, and the first pair of eyes he met were wide and warm and framed by a spattering of freckles and little white blossoms interwoven in his hair. The name rose to his lips and tumbled from his mouth before he was aware of speaking. _Felix._

The other’s eyes widened – Felix’s eyes widened – and the name crashed into him just as Jisung’s own name had, and Jisung, of Storms, saw the other wrestling with himself: with Felix, which he was, and what he was of, as well. Like Jisung had, Felix settled into a compromise with himself a moment later, and his gaze caught on that of another, and a hushed name sprang from his lips.

They passed the names around like this: Jisung, and Felix, and Hyunjin and Changbin and Minho and Chan and Jeongin and Seungmin. They were of these names, and they were more, but they could hold both in their beings, for now. Jisung, of Storms, did not know how long he could exist in this state. He did not know how long the others could last, either, but they were known to him, now. They had always been known to him.

With the return of his name, Jisung, of Storms, felt the rest of his once-upon self filter back into his memories. He was no longer that Jisung, of before, but he remembered him. He remembered Malaysia, and he remembered the trains, and he remembered the warmth of Chan’s invitation to stay in his cabin. He remembered breakfast tables and bonfires and weaving terrible tapestries while Seungmin tried his best to provide damage control. He remembered Changbin’s patient hands at the practice grounds as he taught him to wield a sword. He remembered Minho’s phone screen lit up with downloaded picture after video after picture of cats. He remembered his hushed conversation with Hyunjin in a run-down motel about first impressions and everything that followed after. He remembered Felix sneaking him extra breakfast rolls, imploring him to try to eat just that little bit more. He remembered Jeongin’s quiet assurance that this world was new and overwhelming, yes, but that he wasn’t alone. He wasn’t alone.

A bit more of Jisung returned, and the storm inside him quieted further, and he found himself tipping towards the others before he was fully aware of what he was doing. They met him, of course, and he threw his arms over shoulders as hands came to clasp his hip and his side and he was one part of a circle, unbroken once more.

 _“We won,”_ Chan whispered into their midst, and his word floated through the air and through the back of Jisung’s mind.

 _We won,_ Minho confirmed, and he did not need to speak for Jisung to feel the elation rolling off him. It was no longer twisted into a fervency, a dissonance. It was just Minho.

 _I don’t think we can do that again,_ Jeongin’s voice was quiet, but still overwhelmingly loud.

 _We weren’t gods, I don’t think,_ Felix said.

 _We weren’t, but I was so_ glad _to be… whatever that was._ Changbin replied, and his voice was somehow softer than Jeongin’s but still just as deafening. _I think that was the scariest part._

 _I still knew you all,_ Chan said. _I didn’t know you, but I_ knew _you. Does that make sense?_

 _Yeah,_ Hyunjin breathed out, his voice just above a sigh. _I think if it had been just me, alone…_

Jisung didn’t need Hyunjin to finish that thought to get what the other meant. Any of them, alone, would have been swept out into the golden swirl of whatever had been eating them up, and they would not have made it back to the shore of their being. Jisung pressed tighter into the circle at that thought, and the rest pressed tighter in response, sharing the same concern and offering comfort in turn.

They drew back after a moment, and Seungmin’s quiet question of _where are we now?_ drew Jisung’s attention back to the space around him.

Really, it was more of a lack of space, than anything. There was just whiteness, pure and unbroken except for them.

 _The battlefield…_ Jisung trailed off. There was no sign of the battle they had just engaged in. The marks were still present: there was dried gold on their skin, and their clothes were ruffled and torn (outside of Minho’s leopard-emblazoned bomber jacket). With a start, Jisung realized there was a new bracelet around his wrist: bronze, and with a single zig-zag pattern molded into the metal. He knew instinctively that this was the lightning bolt he had used to cause such destruction, and his other hand automatically went to fidget with the band.

 _Where’d the Titans go?_ Jeongin asked, looking around as if they would suddenly step forward from the nothingness to raise weapons against them once more.

 _Where are the gods?_ Seungmin asked, though he did not look about him as Jeongin had. Instead, his gaze travelled slowly between the other boys.

 _Where are we?_ Hyunjin repeated Seungmin’s earlier statement.

 _Limbo?_ Changbin offered, brow creased.

 _We didn’t die though…_ Felix started, _did we?_

 _I don’t think we_ can _die._ Chan didn’t sound too sure of himself.

 _So we’re like this forever._ Minho’s tone wasn’t questioning. The enormity of that statement was just starting to hit Jisung when an outside voice echoed through the white space, dragging him out of his spiraling thoughts.

“Hello, my sweet boys.” The voice was old, and female, and familiar. Jisung turned and met the gaze of the little old woman from his and Jeongin’s ice cream trip ages ago. She was smiling at them, her eyes pulled into crescents behind her half-moon spectacles. “I’d like you to meet my sisters.”

One moment, the old woman was the only other being outside of the eight of them in that white space. The next moment, two other old women were standing on either side of the first, all of them outfitted in lumpy sweaters of different hues.

 _“The Fates,”_ Jeongin whispered, and his eyes instantly widened when he realized he had spoken aloud.

The first of the Fates smiled, her half moon spectacles glinting. “Hello, Jeongin.” She turned to Jisung. “Hello, Jisung. It is wonderful to see the both of you again, and to formerly meet the rest!” She turned her smile back towards the other boys.

Jisung was a bit taken aback. Should he bow? He should probably bow, shouldn’t he? But then again, he was a god now, right? Or, not a god – that part of him was still thrumming under the surface that was ‘Jisung,’ and he couldn’t have it break free again, not like it had – but he was something akin to a god, so should he bow? They were the Fates, though…

“I suppose I should introduce myself properly, hm?” The first of the Fates spoke again, and Jisung’s attention was directed back to her. “My name is Clotho. These are my sisters, Lachesis,” she gestured to the old woman to her right who was wearing a soft white sweater, “and Atropos.” She gestured to the old woman to her left, whose eyes glinted sternly behind round spectacles.

Chan, as usual, took over in lieu of the others. “ _It is an honor to meet you, most esteemed Moirai.”_ He bowed his head, before looking back up at the three old women with a dimpled grin. _“My name is Chan, but I suspect you know that already.”_ Chan’s voice echoed out through the air before them while also settling comfortably in the back of Jisung’s mind.

Clotho laughed, and Lachesis let out a quiet chuckle. Even Atropos relaxed somewhat in her rigid demeanor.

Clotho spoke, “I do know you, my sweet child. I know all of you. And I am so proud.”

“Although we dictate fate, we do not every have the final say in all matters, despite what myth might lead you to believe.” Lachesis spoke up for the first time, and her voice was quieter than Clotho’s, and sweeter, but just as kind.

 _“You make the prophecies!”_ Felix exclaimed, before a blush instantly colored his cheeks at his outburst.

“We do.” Atropos spoke, and her voice bordered on fond.

 _The Felix effect_ , Jisung smiled at the other boy, before realizing with a start that the others could hear his thoughts clear as day. He felt his own cheeks redden as Hyunjin let out a surprised laugh, and the others sent fond grins towards him and Felix.

Atropos gave them all a knowing look before she continued, “we do not know how events will play out in their entirety, only that there are events that must happen in some form or another. The reactions to those events determine the path of those who walk in the world.”

“It is time for you to react, now,” Lachesis added on, straightening the cut of her white sweater.

 _“React? To what?”_ Changbin asked.

“To the battle you have just won,” Clotho responded. “We have given you this moment in time to decide what next to do.”

“All battles come with a cost,” Atropos cautioned. “You must decide the cost of yours.”

 _“Why do we have to pay a price when we were the ones who won?”_ Minho had no qualms about sounding petulant to the literal Fates, and Jisung marveled at his brazenness.

Clotho laughed once more, the sound echoing out into the spaces around them. “My sweet boy, there was nothing said about you being the ones to pay this price!”

“You won,” Atropos stated. “You determine the meaning of the cost, and who pays.”

 _“Is the cost the loss of gold from my prophecy?”_ Chan asked.

Atropos nodded. “It is.”

“And it is what you make of it,” Lachesis added on. “You will have the time you need to decide, but we cannot make this decision for you.”

Clotho offered them one last warm smile. “No matter what you decide, we are proud of you, my sweet boys. Take your time.” The Fates faded from view, and the eight boys were left alone once more in the white space.

Once the Fates were fully gone, Felix asked the others, _so, who do we chose to do this loss of gold? The Titans? The gods?_

 _Or ourselves,_ Seungmin added. _That is also an option._

Hyunjin’s brow wrinkled. _Why would we choose ourselves?_

 _Maybe we should figure out what the loss of gold is, first._ Chan suggested.

 _Hyunjin said a while ago that maybe the loss of gold was bleeding out?_ Jeongin offered.

 _Yeah, and I said it might be losing an eye, but I thought we decided it wasn’t quite so literal?_ Changbin questioned.

 _What if it’s like the gateway?_ Seungmin’s words were slow and measured.

 _What?_ Minho asked. _You mean, like a metaphor?_

 _Like gold as a concept?_ Jisung added on.

 _Like gold as a concept,_ Seungmin confirmed.

 _Like gold as a concept…_ Chan began, looking up to meet the others’ eyes, _…for godhood._

 _We could force the Titans to give up their immortality?_ Jeongin asked, eyes wide.

 _Or the gods,_ Changbin said.

 _Or ourselves,_ Seungmin added.

Hyunjin spoke up, _again, why would we choose ourselves?_

 _So we don’t have to live like this,_ Felix offered, and Jisung instantly realized what he was talking about. Sure, he was Jisung now, verging into Jisung, of Storms, but he had lost himself completely before – twice, actually. He wasn’t so sure if he would be lucky enough to come back to himself a third time.

 _But we anchor each other?_ Hyunjin offered. Jisung could tell he was doubting his own words even as he spoke them.

 _We do, but I don’t think we were made to be… whatever this is,_ Chan said, gesturing at the group.

 _What would giving up our own immortality solve?_ Minho asked. _The Titans would still be Titans and the gods would still be gods and nothing would change._

Jisung spoke up, his words slow and measured. _I think… we might be able to force a change._

Changbin turned to him, eyebrows raised. _What do you mean?_

 _While I was fully… that_ , Jisung began, and he could tell the others understood what he meant when their gazes shivered and their fists tightened around nothing, _I didn’t have to choose anything. I made the choices, instead._

 _I get it,_ Hyunjin responded, and something dangerous was flickering in the back of his golden irises. _I decided, and it happened. And that was that._

 _And that was that…_ Minho echoed faintly, and Jisung could tell he was also caught up in whatever urges were suddenly rising in his being.

Jisung could feel it, too: the lightning playing just beneath the surface of his skin, no longer pulsing through his veins but present, always present; ready to break free at any slight trigger and push the concept of ‘Jisung’ far away into the surrounding white space.

 _So we decide, and our decision burns up… this_ , Changbin gestured vaguely at him, the meaning of his words more than clear. _Does it burn up all the stuff that happened after eating those candies, or does it burn up the stuff before that, too?_

 _You mean, will we still be demigods,_ Seungmin summarized, and Changbin nodded. No one responded.

Seungmin’s words made Jisung pause. Would he still be a demigod, if he went through with this? Could they give up only part of their godhood like that? And, really, did Jisung even _want_ to be a demigod? His long-ago conversation with Jeongin about choice echoed in his mind:

[“…I also maybe would’ve liked to have been given a choice in this whole matter.”

“Would you have chosen differently?”

“Probably not. But I still would’ve liked the option to choose.”

“I get that. I’m not sure what I would have chosen, if I’d been given a choice.”]

He had that choice now. Jisung thought he knew what he wanted, finally. It was probably the same thing he had wanted back then, just clearer. Just stronger. He’d be okay with fully giving up his godhood if he did so alongside these seven others. He’d be more than okay.

[“I’m so, so grateful I don’t have to do any of this alone.”]

_We’d still be together._ Jisung spoke up. _No matter what, we’d still be together, right?_

 _Of course._ Minho spoke like it wasn’t even a question. Like it was the most obvious path forward.

 _That’s not even up for debate!_ Hyunjin announced, brows drawn together. Jisung felt the beginnings of something bright stirring in his core, a small seed of something soft and warm.

 _So we’re doing this?_ Changbin asked, and his question was met with a collection of small nods.

 _It would appear so,_ Seungmin confirmed, the ghost of a smile playing on his lips.

 _Alright._ Felix’s voice was serious. _What’s the decision we’re making?_

 _That another war will never occur_. Chan spoke with such finality that Jisung couldn’t help but believe him. _That the Titans will not rise against the Olympians, and the Olympians will not fight against the Titans, and that they’ll take care of their children._

Some faraway voice whispered in Jisung’s ear how Chan had never met his father, not really, and neither had Jisung, and neither had so many of them, both those present and the other demigods back at Camp Half-Blood.

And, _oh_ , wasn’t that something huge and important that Jisung had almost forgotten all about? The small exclamation turned all eyes towards him, and he didn’t even have to think anything, the others just knew, somehow.

 _Brian and the others at Camp Half-Blood are fine_ , Chan said.

 _How do you know?_ Jeongin questioned.

 _Because they have to be._ Chan’s voice was quiet, and there was a hint of something there that Jisung had become entirely unfamiliar with in recent times: fear. As Jisung refamiliarized himself with that old emotion, a small fear popped up in his own mind.

 _Where would we go?_ Jisung’s question was small, but the others were focused on him, and they heard. _If we’re not gods, or demigods; where would we go? We couldn’t stay at camp, right? I don’t…_

 _I don’t have anywhere to go, either._ Hyunjin took one of Jisung’s hands.

 _Me neither!_ Felix took the other. _Although, I have a home. I think I’ve had a home for a while._

That something soft and bright bloomed inside Jisung, and it wasn’t the lightning, and it wasn’t gold, but it was golden, and warm, and achingly familiar.

 _My mom and Chan’s would adopt you all in a heartbeat,_ Changbin said, and it was so casual, and it caused that little something inside Jisung to burn all the brighter.

 _They already have,_ Chan smiled, and Jisung burned, but it was the best kind of burning: warm and safe and something he _knew_. He knew these other seven boys, and he loved them, and he trusted them. They would be alright.

 _We should do it,_ Jisung said, and he didn’t have to explain any further. These seven other boys knew him, and they loved him, and they trusted him.

 _Together,_ Felix said, and he was still holding Jisung’s hand, and he grabbed Chan’s hand in his other.

 _Together,_ Hyunjin confirmed, and he grabbed Jeongin’s hand, and Jeongin and Chan grabbed the hands of two of the others, and in another breath they were a circle once more: whole and connected.

 _We have no clue what we’re doing,_ Minho said, and he was laughing, and his laugh was infectious. Soon, Jisung was giggling, and then the rest of the circle was quietly shaking with barely-concealed laughter.

 _When has that ever stopped us before?_ Changbin questioned, and he was grinning.

 _I guess we just go for it?_ Seungmin asked, and though his voice was questioning, it was not hesitant.

 _We just go for it!_ Jeongin confirmed.

 _On three,_ Chan said, and Jisung was brought back to that moment in time when the eight of them had kneeled in a circle underneath the great boughs of a new world tree and raised little yellow candies to their lips. His world had expanded, after that. He had grown strong. What would it be like to go back to that Jisung of before? He’d had so much fear, then; there had been so much of the stuff swirling around in his body. It had been painful, hadn’t it?

_One…_

Yes, it had been painful, but only for a while. Only while he was alone. But the others had come, and the burden had lessened, and he had grown. He couldn’t grow now, not like this. Immortality turned creatures stagnant: the gods and the Titans reliving their old battles were evidence enough of that. Jisung knew he hadn’t fully healed. It was a process, it took time, and he couldn’t spend the rest of his days here, in this semi-formed state of being.

_Two…_

The others would be with him. Of course they would be with him, they could not do otherwise at this point. He was of them, and they of him, and that would not be undone by whatever they were doing now. They were carved into his being, and he into theirs; anchoring forces drawing them back to humanity, to themselves. They would be alright.

_Three!_

A blinding golden light filled the space between the eight boys, growing larger and brighter with every passing moment, sliding out, over and through their bodies, pressing into every corner of the white space. It was never-ending, it was infinite, and Jisung was one speck among eight in its brilliant golden body. He was still Jisung, though, and he was still there, and so were the others. They would be alright.

With hands still firmly pressed into his own, he gathered his being, and stepped back into himself.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I can't believe it's finished? Like, this fic is massive, and has been such an incredible experience for me while writing it, and has garnered so much love from all of you I can hardly believe it. I hope the ending was satisfying! I definitely made myself a bit emotional while writing, but I'm not sure if that was because of what I was writing, or the fact that I was writing the ending. I purposely left it a bit vague, but I am planning a tentative epilogue with snippets from the lives of the boys in the afterwards. I'm not sure when the epilogue will be done; I'm not sure if I'll have it for next week, or if it'll be a couple weeks down the line, but it will come at some point!
> 
> I want to give a huge Thank You!!!! to everyone who's read all the way up until this point. Whether you were here for the inception of this fic, whether you were along for the last couple chapters, or whether you just now found and read this, I'm so grateful to each and every one of you. Thank you to those who left kudos and comments, too! All your support of my writing really does mean a lot. I love you all so much! <3 <3 <3
> 
> If anyone is interested in something else I've written in the Stray Kids tag that is very different stylistically from this piece, I've got an ongoing, sporadically updating [chat fic](https://archiveofourown.org/works/24651247/chapters/59562100) full of dumb humor and far too many memes. 
> 
> This end note is becoming probably far too long, but I just wanted to give another huge thank you to everyone who's read. Your support means the world to me, and was a huge drive in helping me keep my weekly updates coming! For one last time, stay safe, support [BLM](https://blacklivesmatters.carrd.co/), take care of yourselves and those you love, and thank you so much for reading. <3 <3 <3


	22. Epilogue: The Middle

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This epilogue took me significantly longer than expected to complete, but I'm really happy with how it turned out! I hope you all enjoy this one last look into the lives of our boys.
> 
> (Also, if y'all want some mood music to go along with this epilogue, I wrote about half of this with ["Saturn" by Sleeping At Last](https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=dzNvk80XY9s) on repeat; it's a beautiful song with a beautiful message and I highly recommend!)

Here is what they kept, after the war:

A grey streak in their hair, proof that they alone, yet together, had supported the sky. They collectively decided not to dye their streaks back to black.

A circle of gold around their pupils, the lingering remains of eyes that once shined molten and uncaring. It served as a reminder to themselves and to each other of what must never again come to pass.

A gateway into the others' minds, which seemed to stretch across any distance they might travel. Although curiosity pushed them to test this link, they did not stray far from each other after that.

…

After the armistice - after the gods and the Titans were cowed and vows of peace were bound by golden thread - the eight boys went home. They went to the home they had shared, first, and it was an occasion equally joyous and solemn.

The bonfire was lit in Camp Half-Blood despite the early-morning hour, and in its pyre burned the shrouds of those mortal children of the gods who had fallen into their eternal rest. The eight boys honored those who had passed. They joined the camp in remembering their names and their stories, but they kept to the edges of the bonfire. Though they had fought in the same war, the eight boys had not been a part of this battle, and those who remained did not know of what had transpired in the celestial realm. Younghyun knew, somehow, and when he had met them at the gate into camp, he had held them each close and whispered a near-silent apology into the grey-streaked crowns of their heads.

Now, when he was not tending to the fire or comforting demigods, Younghyun stood with the eight boys. He did not speak, and they did not speak, but an understanding was reached, regardless. Once the fire had burned down to embers – once the world was soft with the last dregs of dawn and the demigods were stumbling back into their cabins to rest and to mourn and to question what came next – the eight boys followed Younghyun up that familiar hill and into the Big House.

Before anything else could be said, Younghyun spoke, "you’re welcome here." He met the gaze of each of the boys, not flinching away from the gold ringing their pupils. "You are each welcome here, for as long as you wish to stay."

Chan, as always, was the first to respond. "I know. I know, thank you." He cast a glance back to the other boys, his gaze quickly darting between them. "But, I don't think we can."

Younghyun nodded, once. He understood. He was not happy, but he understood.

"We'll visit though!" Felix spoke up.

"I still have a tapestry I left unfinished," Seungmin added, his eyes crinkling up into a smile. Like this, with the gold in his eyes hidden, he looked normal; he looked human. Younghyun was struck with the urge to weep.

"Can I ask where you’ll go?" Younghyun spoke gently, his gaze flitting between Felix, Hyunjin, and Jisung. _Gods, but they were so young..._

"They'll stay with us." Changbin's voice was firm and offered no room for discussion. One of his hands lay on Jisung's shoulder, the other curled around Hyunjin’s.

"I'm pretty sure our moms would insist," Chan added, a dimple forming in the curve of his half-grin.

"My dad would also be willing to host, I'm sure," Seungmin said.

“And my mom!” Minho added with a smile which was not sharp or twisted or feral; just kind. Just Minho.

"Maybe my mom?" Jeongin spoke up hesitantly. "I'm honestly not sure if she's ever gonna let me leave the house again, but we'll see!"

"We'll visit you if you can't come to us!" Hyunjin said. There was no mention of suggestion, or charm, or speaking to Jeongin's mom in a voice dripping honey. Hyunjin didn't know if he could still Charmspeak. He had no desire to find out.

Younghyun smiled at them all, and for the first time since the eight boys had returned, his smile wasn't sad.

…

After the armistice and the bonfire and the chat in the Big House, after visits to cabins quiet and still, the eight boys went their separate ways to their childhood homes. Or, they had intended to do so, but as soon as they stepped past the gates, bags packed and slung onto backs or across shoulders or rolling along the gravel path, Hyunjin spoke up.

“I want to see my moms.” He looked a bit taken aback by his own words, quickly giving his head a little shake before amending his statement. “I mean, I want to go to Mrs. Seo’s and Mrs. Bang’s place. With all of you. Before we, um. You know.”

They did know. There was a lingering voice in the back of each of their minds that sounded like Hyunjin, and it whispered, _before we have to separate_.

“Huh,” Minho said, in summary of Hyunjin’s voice echoing through the back of his mind. That encapsulated just about everything that needed to be articulated on the matter.

“Do you think it’ll stretch between our houses?” Jeongin asked, braces glinting in the afternoon sun. Worried, half-formed thoughts concerning his mother and his inevitable house arrest were dancing through his mind and slipping their way through the minds of the others.

“I think so,” Jisung responded with a soft smile, which widened at Jeongin’s obvious relief. Jisung could feel them, all seven others, as warm presences lingering close to his core. Maybe it should have been invasive, or unnerving, or unwanted, but it wasn’t. It was just comforting.

A moment later, Chan’s phone let out a soft chime, followed shortly after by a ping from Changbin’s phone.

“My mom,” Chan confirmed, looking at the text.

“Mine too,” Changbin added. “They want us all to visit, as soon as we can.”

“Are we sure they’re not the psychic ones?” Minho asked with a raised brow. Seungmin, for all his serious posturing, was the first to break, and soon the others followed him into quiet laughter.

“C’mon,” Felix said, stepping out past the front of the group with a wide smile, “let’s go see our honorary moms.”

The walk passed quickly in the oncoming dusk. The days were shortening, creeping forward through fall into winter and the end of the year. The boys didn’t mind the dusk, simply pressing closer together as winds marked by the first baby fangs of the cold season stirred their hair. Hands found hands and feet fell into step and when they showed up at the door of the Bang-Seo apartment it took a few moments for Chan to extract himself enough to knock on the worn brown wood.

Chan’s hand had barely left the surface of the door before it was being yanked open and the boys were greeted with the frantic gaze of Changbin’s mother. As soon as her eyes settled on Chan – on the circle of gold in his eyes, and his grey-streaked hair, and the cluster of boys pressing close to him – her own eyes grew round and wet.

“My boys,” she said, and then Chan’s mom was joining her, and through some small miracle they had wrapped their eight once-upon demigods in the protective circle of their arms, shuffling them into the soft warmth of the apartment. Changbin’s mom repeated the statement, her words hushed and full of something unnamed as she ran her fingers through every head of hair she could reach: “My boys, my boys, my boys.”

“You’ve fixed the world, haven’t you?” Chan’s mom whispered, trailing her hands over foreheads and cheeks and chins, meeting each golden-laced stare with eyes that did not hesitate. This was what broke them. It was not the moment they had stepped onto a broken battlefield and felt the fearful stares of both Titan and Olympian settle upon them. It was not the promise of peace stamped into the very core of those immortals in unwavering gold. It was not the return to Camp Half-Blood, or the pyre, or Brian’s kind eyes. It was this, the confirmation that they had done well from two women who couldn’t possibly have known what ‘doing well’ had meant. This was what broke their façade down into wet eyes and shuddering gasps and hands reaching out for something grounding, for stability. They were just boys, after all, being comforted by mothers.

After it all, they were still just boys.

…

Chan and Changbin’s moms would have taken them all in, if they could: Chan and Changbin, of course, but also Jisung and Felix and Hyunjin, and Minho and Seungmin and Jeongin. But three had families of their own, and Hyunjin latched onto Minho with a resolute “he needs me, too,” and so the Bang-Seo household only gained two new members while the Lee family grew by one. The mothers bought bunk beds: Jisung moved into Chan’s room, and Felix moved into Changbin’s, and Hyunjin moved into Minho’s. Jeongin lived with his mother and Seungmin lived with his father but more often than not they were found with each other. Seungmin coaxed his way into the heart of Jeongin’s mother, and against all odds she began to trust her only son to this other boy with his honest smile and polite words. And if Seungmin and Jeongin then went to visit Minho and Hyunjin, or Chan-Changbin-Jisung-Felix, well. Jeongin’s mother didn’t have to know.

Their homes were held in the hearts of each other, and it was not truly a homecoming unless all eight were present. Still, there were bumps in the road, as there so often were.

…

Felix had been living in the Bang-Seo household for less than a full twenty-four hours when his mom came to visit. She did not knock, as he had expected, but rather appeared in the middle of the small living room, looking harried and frantic and not at all herself. The little succulents on the bookshelf were near bursting out of their pots before Persephone's gaze came to rest on her Springtime Child, and the room settled. She did not speak. Felix wasn’t sure if she would have been able to keep her voice controlled if she had; to keep her godhood contained. But she did not speak, and the succulent pots did not shatter, and she crossed the three short paces to where Felix was rising from the couch to pull him into her arms. As soon as his mom’s arms were around him, Felix found himself melting into her hold, and she bore the entirety of his weight with ease. He was _tired_ , he suddenly realized, near overwhelmingly so, and he turned his face into his mom’s shoulder to blot at the sudden wetness in his eyes. Persephone did not cry, because she was a goddess, but her eyes were bright with something that might have been tears when she finally pulled back to scan Felix’s flushed face, taking in his hair and his eyes and the freckles that still lay scattered across his cheeks. Her smile was soft and sad and so full of love and Felix was overwhelmed. He was so tired, but he was bursting with some newly familiar energy, and it was terrifying. Felix knew Chan and Changbin’s moms were present in the apartment, slowly extracting themselves to their bedroom to give Felix and his mom the time they needed, but he was only vaguely aware of this happening. Felix was much more aware of Chan and Changbin hovering at the periphery of the room, unsure whether they should leave to give Felix space or stay to give Felix support. He was aware of Jisung stepping quietly in between the other two, tucking himself under their arms as they waited for Felix to decide whether he needed them there. The others were lingering at the edges of his periphery, Hyunjin and Minho a little closer than Jeongin, and Seungmin farthest away, but they were all still present. Still palpable. At this exact moment, though, his attention was focused on Persephone – his _mom_ – and the small purple flowers she was weaving through the grey in his hair. Felix reached his own hand up to brush through the ends of her long hair, and as he did so a single white bloom sprouted in the space between the strands. Persephone cried, then, because although she was a goddess she was also a mother, and Felix cried too, because he was her child, and scant flowers filled the space between them. He realized, then, what he wanted the others to do, and Chan and Changbin and Jisung heard him. The others heard him. Gentle hands reached up to clasp onto his shoulder and his back and his hip, and soft nuzzling thoughts curled up within his mind, and those few flowers bloomed bright and clean in the space between their fingers.

…

When Dionysus visited Minho for the first time following the war, it was almost like the war had never happened. He came when Minho’s mom was out, because of course he did, and he came bearing wine, because of course he would. Hyunjin was hesitant about the bottle at first, but Dionysus was Dionysus, and Minho was Minho, and Hyunjin accepted a small glass of watered-down wine before Dionysus had been present a full ten minutes. Minho’s wine was not watered down, and he wondered for a moment if it would actually affect him, now. But as the bittersweet drink slid down his throat and settled warmly in his stomach, he felt his mind sharpen rather than dull. That was one thing he kept, then. He wondered if he had kept other aspects. He wondered if it would have been better if he could drink to dullness, to stupidity, to forgetting. His dad’s gaze was sharp when Minho looked up, as if Dionysus could tell what he had been thinking. Dionysus, the father, who had tasted mortality for the briefest of moments. Minho, the son, who had nearly been swallowed by his immortality. They were quite the pair, weren’t they? Hyunjin, in comparison to his dad, could tell exactly what Minho had been thinking, and Hyunjin was affected by the wine, and Hyunjin was honest. He pressed closer to Minho as they sat across from Dionysus, and they drank in silence. It was not uncomfortable, though. It was just calm; it was just accepting. There were things Minho wanted to say to his dad, and he was sure there were things Dionysus wanted to say in return, but now was not the time. They were too close to the war, too raw, and their lips were stained dark and red with something that could not yet be the heart of the matter. There would be time for talking later. For now, they would sit together with their wine in something that was not quite a celebration but could have been, in some other time. Perhaps it was a toast. Perhaps it was a quiet acknowledgement that what had happened did happen, and that it would not happen again, and that it was the work of Minho and Hyunjin and the others that had led to this reality. The wine grew sweeter on Minho’s tongue, and he swallowed around a sudden small lump in the back of his throat. Before he left, Dionysus took the leopard-print bomber jacket from Minho, and as he held it in his hands the jacket was no longer a jacket but a soft grey-brown kitten, her coat streaked with thick black stripes and her curious amber eyes speckled with gold. Dionysus held her out for Minho to take, and Minho was not at all surprised to find his hands trembling as he reached out. That was okay, though. His hands were steady enough. Hyunjin was cooing before Minho even had the little kitten fully in his arms, and Minho smiled up at his dad. It was a genuine smile: small, and tired, but real. Dori nuzzled her soft head into his palm, and Hyunjin leaned heavily over his shoulder to get a better look, and Minho’s smile grew.

…

Jisung had been living in the Bang-Seo household for a little under a week when Chan and Changbin’s moms presented him with another gift. They had been spoiling him and Felix with endless little offerings: a pair of earbuds, a new backpack, a collection of cartoon-printed pencils. Jisung thought they might have been trying to distract them from the enormity of what they had done in taking the two boys into their household. That was a gift enough to last Jisung his entire lifetime, but Changbin and Chan had said that it made their moms happy to shower them in simple gifts, and so Jisung accepted each little present with grace despite the way his heart clenched and his stomach swooped low each time they offered him something new. Jisung’s newest gift was a soft-cover moleskin notebook: beautiful and black and full of endless pages for him to fill with whatever thoughts he couldn’t let sit inside his head. They must have noticed the ink stains crawling up the side of his palm, or else seen the poor remains of what had once been his chemistry notebook and was now a collection of entropy and stoichiometry and all the things he couldn’t yet say out loud. The others heard him though, and they did not let his thoughts sit unsettled for long before he was being bothered to go on an ice cream run by Jeongin or asked to help with a tapestry by Seungmin or taken to a new noodle shop by Changbin. Still, there were some thoughts that Jisung could only process through writing, and so he had destroyed the remains of his chemistry notebook and taken to scribbling over his hand and up his arm before Chan and Changbin’s moms had presented him with the notebook. Jisung had stuttered over his thank-yous before bringing the gift back into the room he shared with Chan, laying it delicately on their desk before flipping it open with a hesitant hand. He sliced his finger on the second page he turned, and in half a moment the small cut had welled up bright red with a streak of glimmering gold swirled into its mix. His mind froze and his heart tensed and his stomach fell to his feet and he didn’t say anything. He didn’t have to. Three seconds later, Chan, Changbin, and Felix were all bursting into his room, eyes wide and worried. Five seconds later, Jisung's phone rang with a call from Minho (and likely Hyunjin), Chan's phone was vibrating with a series of texts from Seungmin, and the ringtone Changbin had picked out for Jeongin was echoing through the bedroom. Felix sat down beside Jisung, pulling a tissue from the nearby box to gently wipe away the drop of blood while Chan and Changbin answered the calls and texts. The other boys came over for dinner that night, and Chan and Changbin’s moms ordered cheesecake for them all.

…

Hyunjin was a few weeks into the fall semester at his new school – Minho’s school – and it was not going well. He’d already been confessed to twice, had unintentionally become the rival of the drama department’s star actor, and had been scouted by the photography club, volleyball team, and student council. Maybe Hyunjin should have been grateful for the attention. It was all positive, wasn’t it? But the spotlight felt a bit too much like the one his father had let him burn beneath as a child, and Hyunjin hated it. Hyunjin wasn’t in that spotlight because of _Hyunjin_ ; he was there because of his father, because of his mother, because of things Hyunjin himself had no control over. Having Minho with him made it a bit more tolerable, as the older boy often shared that same spotlight, but it still got to be too much, some days. Like when Minho was in his seniors-only history class, and Hyunjin was stuck in sophomore-level chemistry, and the girls in the corner just wouldn’t stop _giggling_. He caught them staring at him every time he looked up, though they quickly ducked their faces behind curtains of carefully curled hair. Hyunjin was already having a not-so-great day after seeing his father’s too-perfect smile glaring out from a poster on his walk to school. Plus, it was a Tuesday, and that meant he didn’t even get to walk home with Minho because the older had some dance club meeting to attend. (Minho had been imploring Hyunjin to join the club since the first day of class, but Hyunjin just wasn’t ready for that, and Minho got that. But he also got that Hyunjin wanted to be ready, and so he kept asking Hyunjin to join because one day Hyunjin would finally say yes.) So it had been a not-so-great day, and then the boldest of the girls approached him after class to ask him out to the movies or a café or the mall or somewhere Hyunjin definitely did not want to go. He was starting to ask if she could please pardon him as he really had to get to his next class, except the “could you” fell out of his mouth coated in something sweet and sticky and golden and he snapped his jaw closed with an audible click before rushing past the dazed girl, eyes already growing wet. Minho found him three minutes later, curled up on a bench in a small park two blocks from the school, tears rolling down his face as he gasped softly into the corner of his elbow. Minho didn’t speak, but he ran a hand through Hyunjin’s lengthening hair, and he hummed something quiet and light to mask the sounds of Hyunjin’s stinted sobs, and he stayed. That afternoon, Hyunjin went with Minho to his dance club, and by the end of the practice he was sweating and winded and so incredibly content. Minho met his eyes in the practice mirror and gave him a signature feline grin, and maybe Hyunjin’s day turned out alright in the end.

…

It took Jeongin a couple weeks to notice that his teeth didn't hurt anymore. He had become so accustomed to the dull ache in the roots of his jaw that, at first, he didn't register when that ache disappeared. And besides, he had been kept busy with placating his mother and trying his best to convince her that he needed to see the others and leave the house to go to places outside of school. (He had kept from her that he could always sense the others – he didn't think that particular bit of info would have helped his case.) He wore his mother down little by little, thanks in large part to Seungmin and his formal manner and polite diction and overall responsible nature, and soon he was able to leave nearly as he pleased. His mind turned to other matters, then, and one day he woke up, and his jaw didn't hurt, and his teeth were perfectly aligned. He had his braces removed the day after. The dentist was amazed and his mother was confused and Jeongin didn't quite know what to feel. He had wanted his braces off for months. Now, as he stared at his straight, gleaming teeth in the mirror, he wished he could have kept them. His smile was too perfect, too other, too reminiscent of something he'd rather not remember. Those little bits of metal had been so human, hadn’t they? He’d been so human, but now all he could see as he stared at himself in the mirror were the glint of gold in his eyes and his stupid, perfect teeth. He wasn't allowed to sink into those thoughts for too long before the buzzer sounded, announcing a guest had come by to visit the apartment. Before his mother even opened the door, Jeongin knew who was on the other side. Minho grinned at him, Hyunjin trailing a half-step behind, and their teeth were straight and perfect too, but their eyes were crinkled and warm and human. Minho was holding a giant tub of popcorn that he must have somehow snuck out of a movie theater, and Hyunjin was clutching three large sodas, and they were convincing Jeongin's mom to let them in for a movie night, and they were each tucking Jeongin under an arm, and they was leading him to Jeongin's bedroom like they had visited a hundred times before. (They _had_ visited a hundred times before.) Twenty minutes later, Jeongin was sandwiched comfortably between Minho and Hyunjin, the three of them howling with imperfect laughter through perfect sets of teeth as something mindless played on the small screen of Jeongin’s school-assigned laptop. Hyunjin tossed him a piece of popcorn, and Jeongin caught it easily, and he didn’t have to worry about kernels getting stuck anymore. Minho ruffled his hair and Hyunjin continued throwing popcorn at his head and Jeongin let all thoughts slip out of his head but these: he was happy, and he was here, and he was not alone.

…

Changbin hadn’t told his mom what had happened, not yet, even though it had been six weeks and he knew she had wanted to ask him about everything that had occurred every day since. Despite this, his mom had held her tongue, and Changbin was so grateful to her for that. The truth was he wasn’t sure if he could tell her about all the things he had seen and all the things he had done. He certainly couldn’t tell her everything. His mom didn’t need to know that he had learned what it felt like to slice an arm clean off its body. His mom didn’t need to know that he had felt his own arm ripped partway from its socket, and that he knew how it felt when his skin and sinew knit back together. His mom didn’t need to know that he had forgotten about her for a terrifyingly long period of time. Changbin thought knowing these things might break his mother. Knowing these things might’ve broken him, too, if he hadn’t had seven others who knew these things as well. If he woke up and small tendrils of shadows were clinging to his fingertips, Felix was clambering down from his spot on the top bunk to tuck himself into Changbin’s side, brushing away the shadows as he did so. If he was seated at his customary corner table in the cafeteria and the kids a few tables away were talking a little too enthusiastically about the newest war game, Jisung was beside him, pressing their legs together from hip to knee and keeping him grounded in the now. If he was out with the others at the mall or the park or the banks of the river and someone popped their gum a bit too loudly, he was not alone in reaching for the small keychain hanging off his belt loop that was his axe, and he was not alone in reaching out for a hand to hold in place of that weapon when his brain realized there was no danger here. He was not alone in bringing his weapon everywhere; he was not alone in scanning the streets for flesh-hungry birds, or skeletal armies, or great Titans that shook the ground with their steps. Changbin did tell his mom some of what happened. She had known about the prophecy for years, and he filled her in on some of the details of their quest: Seungmin’s triumph over the Spartoi, their journey to the Underworld, Jisung’s lightning trick with the Ketos. He explained the grey streak in his hair by talking briefly of Atlas. He did not explain the gold in his eyes. His mom didn’t ask. But she continued to open her arms to him every time she so much as sensed his mood shifting, and she opened her arms to the others, too, and she didn’t have to ask. She just knew. Changbin was grateful every time he fell into her arms, and every time the others did too, and especially every time they filled his small home with laughter and shouting and so much warmth Changbin couldn’t remember what he had been so anxious about before. It must not have been important, and besides, everything that really mattered was spread out in front of him, content and there for Changbin to reach out and hold in turn. So he did.

…

The evening before his own birthday, Seungmin had gone to visit Jeongin. Their youngest had asked for help with his homework, except he had asked Seungmin to come to the Bang-Seo residence to receive that help, and Seungmin knew with one-hundred percent certainty that this was an incredibly poorly constructed excuse to get Seungmin to his not-so-surprising surprise birthday party. Really, did they think they could hide this from him? But the thought that they’d planned a surprise party in the first place had him smiling despite himself, and he was quickening his pace towards the apartment before he was fully aware of what he was doing. Seungmin had just stepped out from the subway’s entrance when he saw the bike. It was bright red and moving incredibly fast towards him and he was barely able to jerk himself back a step before it flew by a few inches from his nose, the cyclist yelling something that could have been an apology but just as easily could have been a curse. Seungmin blinked – once, twice – and took another step backwards. A moment later, the bright red bike was flying past him again, this time with a good foot of space between them, and the cyclist was shouting something that Seungmin could now identify as an apology, and then the bike and its rider were gone into the evening. Seungmin was frozen where he stood. That wasn’t supposed to happen, not anymore. Yes, Seungmin still remembered things with near-perfect clarity, and his mind was hardly quiet, but that sort of thing – the visions – should have been left behind with the rest of what had been golden and furious. He needed it to remain behind with the rest of that golden mess. Though, as his brain slowly kicked back into gear, Seungmin realized that his eyes were still the slightest bit golden, weren’t they? Felix still had his few blooms, and Hyunjin could still twist his voice the slightest bit. Shadows sometimes stuck to Changbin, and Jisung had bleed metallic, once. It really shouldn’t surprise Seungmin that he could still See things, either. Except it did. Except Seungmin had expected that part of his history to have been wiped clean. He wanted a fresh start; he wanted black and white; he wanted peace. _Gods_ , did he want peace. In another second, Jeongin was texting him a brief _want to delay hw help?_ and a newer realization crashed into Seungmin. Maybe he didn’t want a clean slate, after all. He could stand to have his life a little messy if these other boys were with him. He would See when danger might befall them, and he would prevent it. Like that, it didn’t sound so bad. Like that, he could stomach the thought that the afterwards wasn’t as clean-cut as he had hoped it would be. He texted Jeongin back with _I’m fine, see you in five_ , and he stepped forward towards the apartment once more. When he opened the door to find all seven others cheering for him from beneath a shoddily constructed birthday banner, his surprise might have been faked, but his joy was entirely genuine.

…

Four months after the war, Chan went swimming. The others had offered to accompany him, but their offers were a formality. They knew what his answer would be before he had even opened his mouth. So Chan went alone, and because the ocean was too far from his boys he went to the river, and he dove into the water. It was cold, incredibly so – the season was rapidly veering into winter’s grip, Felix growing more and more sluggish as the daylight shortened – but Chan didn’t mind. He liked the cold, actually. It cut through all the thoughts that had been littering his mind for what felt like a lifetime. He could just _be_ , here, even if the water wasn’t his anymore, not in the way it had been. He no longer belonged to the seas or the tides or the shores, but water had memory. It remembered the plants and the birds and the beasts it had seen in its endless cycles beneath the sun. It remembered Chan. It took him a few minutes of drifting in the slight current of the river to realize his lungs had not yet begun to burn with the need for air, and Chan smiled. He had kept this part of his previous life, then. The others had their own small recollections of what had been, and now Chan knew his. The water played with his hair a bit, curling and uncurling strands as Chan settled himself cross-legged on the soft silt floor of the river. It was so quiet down here. He could hear his own heartbeat, that steady proof of life. If he concentrated, he could hear the beat echoed in septuplicate, and his smile grew and his shoulders relaxed and the tension he had been holding for years began to seep out of his body. The current carried it away, and the water played with his hair, and his small tears of relief mingled with the larger body of the river. Chan had been so worried for so long. He had analyzed every syllable of his prophecy for years, and his heart had grown equal parts joyous and fearful with the arrival of every new member of his eventual quest, and then they had actually gone and done the whole thing. It had almost cost everything. It had almost cost seven pieces of himself. _But you are still here, in whole_ , the water seemed to whisper to him as it began to carry that worry away from him, too. Chan was still here. Chan was still here, and so were the others, and a sudden bright desire flooded his being as he kicked himself up from the riverbed and breached the surface of the water. He emerged dry. There, waiting for him on the bank, were those seven pieces of himself, smiles bright and warm and welcoming. They had known what Chan would need before he himself had grown aware of that desire, and they had waited for him. He knew they would always wait for him, and he would wait for them in turn. They were Chan’s, and he was theirs, and he cut a quick path through the currents to throw himself into their midst.

…

Here is what they lost, after the war:

Their godhood, and most of those things they had considered to be due to their demigod nature.

Although, ‘lost’ might have been too strong a term: they were mortal, yes, but not of the mortal world. They were not of the godly world, either, and they were no longer of the in-between. They ran through a different kind of middle: between what they were before and what they were after and what they were now. They ran together, though; eight separate hearts beating out one steady pulse. And that was enough.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hope you all enjoyed this last piece of Run Through The Middle! I name-dropped the title in that last bit there, which is how you know this is officially the end. :') Thank you all so much for reading and enjoying and sending me well-wishes throughout the entirety of this fic! This epilogue is a little gift for you all for being so wonderful. <3 <3 <3
> 
> Although Run Through The Middle is finished, I do have an idea for another longer-form Stray Kids AU of which I'm still trying to figure out the overarching plot, so tbd on when that will actually be ready to post. In the meantime, I'm still regularly updating [The Jarem](https://archiveofourown.org/works/24651247/chapters/59562100), which is my meme-filled, Wholesomely Cursed (TM) chatfic written purely to put some extra serotonin out into the world. I also created [a Discord server](https://discord.gg/hcGuswh) for all of us Stay to scream over Stray Kids and share music and just generally chill, if you're interested in joining!
> 
> Alright everyone, that's just about it from me! I hope you all are staying safe and healthy, both mentally and physically. Support BLM however you can, wash your hands, and wear masks in public spaces. Be kind to each other, and be kind to yourselves! I love you all, and thank you one last time for reading! <3 <3 <3


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